


NATHAN THE WISE. 



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NATHAN, 
THE WISE 



A DRAMATIC POEM 

OF FIVE ACTS, 

BY 

TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH PROSE 
DR. ISIDOR KALISCH. 



NEW YORK; 

WALDHEIMER & ZENN, PUBLISHERS, 10 JOHN ST. 
18 6 9. 



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A 03 



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Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 18*i9, A, D., by 

Dr. IfaiDoR Kalisch, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court 

of the United States, for the Southern District 

of New York. 



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PREFACE. 



A genuine seer and poet is the common 
property of all nations. His ideas, thoughts, 
words and doctrines ought, especially in our 
own progressive age, be known to all. 

And such a one was Gotthold Epheaim 
Lessing, who was born in 1729, in the city of 
Kamenz, in the Saxonian Oberlausitz (Upper 
Lusatia) where his father was officiating as 
first Evangelical Minister, and died in the city 
of Braunschweig (Brunswick) on the 15th of 
February, 1781. His Mends erected to him 
a monument in the Library Square, in the 
city of "Wolfenbuetel ; but the best one he 
erected to himself in his immortal works. 

It is well acknowledged by his countrymen, 
that he was the reformer of the German Na- 
tional Literature and spiritual life generally, 
a fine and acute critic, a poet well versed in 



ii. PREFACE. 

the classical as well as in modern languages, 
and thoroughly acquainted with the ancient 
sources of theology. 

He was a burning and shining light of such 
rare power and splendor, that it will warm the 
human heart and enlighten the spirit where- 
ever a glimpse of it will be visible. He belongs, 
therefore, not to a particular age and nation, 
but to the whole human family of the present 
and future. 

He took to himself the whole armor of God, 
tfuth combined with tolerance, pressed forward 
manfully, and tried to lead to the deep springs 
of universal religion, fed ever from the celes- 
tial heights of the Divine nature, whence flows 
that mighty river of God, full of living water, 
where all mankind may drink perennial sup- 
ply. Very ingeniously remarked Dr. Gabriel 
Kiesser (Riesser's Gesammelte Schriften, vol. iv. 
p. 1-5-30) : " There are names, the sounds of 
which embody the most noble endeavors of 
humanity, so that they impart to our souls 
more than any elaborate speech can ever do. 
The name of a great man animates us by an 
idea, the expression of which was his person- 
ality and the representation of it was his life: 



PREFACE. iii. 

and works. All, that speech is too poor to 
express in distinct terms and which can scarcely 
be stammered in abstruse abstractions, sonnds 
in snch a name lively and vigorously in our 
souls. The immortality of every great man 
enriches his native tongue with a word, signi- 
ficant and instructive, as there cannot be found 
any one like that in the whole treasure of the 
language. The recollection of its master 
spirits is the richest inheritance of every 
people's language. All humanity draws from 
the same source the description of its deepest 
emotions. As science designates stars by 
names, thus history of mankind calls after its 
great men the shining epochs and turns of 
events and the most significant directions. 
Their memory is the most holy legacy of the 
past, and an elevating guaranty of the future. 
Their names, like healing magic words, act on 
the mind of him who is dejected by the suffer- 
ing of the present. They awake again the 
confidence in progress and in the future 
humanity, should it begin to waver on acc<" 
of the scene of a momentary standstill or i 
rogression. Tims means the name Lessin^ 
culture of humanity, philanthropy, enlighten- 



iv. PREFACE. 

ment, civil and religious liberty, war against 
intolerance, religious hate and the oppression 
of reason. Every heart that beats higher in 
great hope for humanity by such ideas, feeling 
a deep interest in the struggles of the present, 
and being painfully agitated by the recollection 
of the troubles of the past, it is warmed and re- 
animated by the deep breath of the name 
Lessing. The offended feeling is cheered up 
and consoled, the enfeebled sense revels with 
gladness in the breathing of a refreshing air, 
it gains new strength to execute works of hu- 
manity ; it heard a word of comfort and prom- 
ise and is strengthened anew in faith and trust. 
But there is still a much closer connection 
which agitates our heart when mentioning his 
name. Wherever was the deepest darkness, 
there let Lessing- shine the sun of his spirit the 
brightest and most brilliantly ; wherever the 
hate raged fearfully and was most destructive 
since many centuries, there his philanthropy 
exercised most zealously and gloriously its san- 
ative power. His great heart embraced all 
humanity with an inexhaustible love ; his un- 
flinching courage and his never-failing intel- 
lectual power were ever ready to light against 



PREFACE. t. 

every prejudice, against every falsehood, and 
against every unjust hatred. — 

A glance on Lessing's grand poem, on his 
Nathan the Wise, teaches us how distant Les- 
sing's muse has been from the censured pre- 
judices. This drama was devoted to tolera- 
tion, liberty of conscience and love of human- 
ity ; hatred and fanaticism are the blind 
demons with which wisdom and love grapple 
and overcome them gloriously. There was no 
lack of critics who on account of an adopted 
theory did not like to look on Nathan as a 
poetical piece ; because, as they pleased to 
express themselves, it has a didactical ten- 
dency. As if it were unbecoming a poet to 
teach and cultivate! But there is at the bot- 
tom a misunderstanding of a peculiar kind. 
It is not the teaching, but the manner and 
form of expressing it can only become detri- 
mental to poetry. 

Nature also teaches ; but she instructs with- 
out any intention to do so and to make it visi- 
ble before our eyes ; she teaches, when she is 
creating, forming and preserving. We may 
demand of the poet, that he shall imitate the 
mysterious charm of nature as much as possi- 



vi. PREFACE. 

ble, that lie shall attract and win onr hearts by 
living" creations of his imagination, and that 
he shall instruct us unperceivingly while we 
are delighted with a lovely contemplation. 
Therefore, we can then reproach the poet, and 
only then, if the characters represented by him 
leave us without any sympathy, and, instead 
of a lively stimulating of our feelings, which 
we expect first of all, and indirectly, we per- 
ceive only a cold intention of instructing us. 
But he whose warm sympathy is not aroused 
by the characters in Lessixg's Nathan; he 
whose tolerance and love are not gained by the 
representatives of the three religions, which 
they teach by their personalities, he is not ca- 
pable of any poetical sympathy, and he may 
deplore his own poor nature, if he cannot 
detect any other intention except to impart 
sublime principles to his revolting conscious- 
ness. A spirit like Lessestg-'s could not desist 
from his endeavors in any branch of his activity 
to instruct and to promote light and knowl- 
edge, and we may assume the idea, that he 
would have renounced poetry altogether, had 
its lawi really demanded of him such a desist- 
ance. But true poetry forbids as little to 



PREFACE. vii. 

instruct as it forbids to love. But instruction 
as little as love, wisdom as little as emotion 
should replace the productive power of inven- 
tion and language ; they must satisfy the re- 
quirements of the poetical form of which they 
make use of, as they do in the highest degree 
in Lessing's poem. 

The particular circumstance, however, that 
Lessestg put the luminous point of this poem in 
the character of a Jew which gave much 
offence to the intolerance of his cotemporaries 
as well as to that of latter generations, dare 
not be passed over in silence. It must be 
admitted, that herein the sublime idea of hu- 
manity and poetical justice was conceived. 
What nobler task can poetry as well as philan- 
thropy assign to themselves, than that to heal 
the most painful wounds which hatred has 
inflicted, and to carry the. light of human right 
and loving acknowledgement into the deepest 
night of a misjudging hard-heartedness and 
blinded prejudice ? 

Lessing's muse has therefore selected Juda- 
ism for the corner-stone of the temple of re- 
conciliation and philanthropy ; because it suf- 
fered the longest and most severely by oppres- 



viii. PREFACE. 

sion, hatred and persecution. The poet let his 
Jew be the least and his Christian the most 
biased by his own prejudice. From the begin- 
ning of his poem he let shine in the first the sen- 
timent of a pure humanity, which high degree 
the latter reaches after many errors and inward 
struggles. We will neither use this creation of 
such a deep, human and poetical mind for ac- 
cusations nor for a presumptuous arrogance. 
We will rather in like manner perceive in both 
characters, in the one who appears accomplish- 
ed before us as well as in the one who tries 
to gain perfection before our face such pic- 
tures of unattained ideals which make us 
ashamed and which the poet wanted to show 
to the different religious sects." 

I have translated into English " Nathan, the 
Wise" one of the master-pieces of this author, 
in order to make my fellow-citizens familiar 
with the grand ideas of this illustrious for- 
eigner. .It is not here the place to discuss at 
large as to the comparative merit of prose and 
metrical translation ; but I will simply state 
the reason why I have translated this master- 
piece of Lessino in prose. I fully agree with 
the learned correspondent of the " Examiner" 



PREFACE. ix. 

who says : " No poetical translation can give 
the rhythm and rhyme of the original ; it can 
only substitute the rythm and rhyme of the 
translator ; and for the sake of this substitute, 
we must renounce some portion of the original 
sense, and nearly all the expressions ; whereas, 
by a prose translation, we can arrive perfectly 
at the thoughts, and very nearly at the words 
of the original." 

Whether I have succeeded to taste the origi- 
nal to the core, and tried to preserve the light 
and shade of the poetical picture, by adequate 
expressions, so that f my English version of 
" Nathan the Wise " be called a right transla- 
tion, I leave it to the kind judgment of im- 
partial critics. 

Dr. ISIDOK KALISCH. 



CHARACTERS. 



Sultan Saladin. 

Sittah, his Sister. 

Nathan, a rich Jew dwelling in Jerusalem. 

Recha, his adopted daughter. 

Daja, a Christian, living in the house of the Jew 

as a companion of Recha. 
A Young Templar. 
A Dervise. 

The Patriarch of Jerusalem. 
A Lay-Brother. 

An Emir and several Mamelukes in the service 
of Saladin . 

■ Scene — Jerusalem in Palestine. 



ACT I. 



Scene 1. — A vestibule in Nathan's house. 

Enter Nathan returning from a trip. Daja hastening to 

meet him. 

Daja. That is he ! Nathan — God be praised 
for ever, that he has returned at last. 

Nat. Yes, Daja ! God be praised ! But 
why do you say at last? Did I intend, or could 
I return earlier ? The way I had to travel from 
Babylon to Jerusalem, turning sometimes to 
the right and sometimes to the left is about two 
hundred leagues, and to collect accounts is 
surely not a business going on so well that it 
were to be finished speedily. 

Daja. Oh, Nathan ! how very wretched could 
you have been rendered here in the meantime ! 
Your house — 

Nat. "Was on fire. I was told so already. 
May God grant that I am now informed of 
all. 



6 - NATHAN THE WISE. 

Daja. And had like to be burnt to the 
ground. 

Nat. Well, Daja, we had built then for us a 
new one, and still more convenient. 

Daja. Very true !— But Recha was within a 
hair's breadth of being burnt. 

Nat. Burnt ? Who ? My Recha ? She ? 
I did not hear that. Now, then ! I had no 
need of a house any more. Burnt within a 
hair's breadth ! Ho ! She is indeed ! Is act- 
ually burnt ! Speak it out ! Out with it ! Kill 
me, and torture me not any longer. Yes, she 
is burnt to death. 

Daja. And if she were, would you learn 
that from me? 

Nat. Now, why do you terrify me? Oh, 
Recha, oh my Recha ! 

Daja, Yours ! — Your Recha ? 

Nat. If I ever had to abandon the habit to 
call that child my child ! 

Daja. Do you call all that you possess yours 
with just as much legality ? 



NATHAN THE WISE. 1 

Nat. Nothing I do with, more right than that 
All else I possess has fallen to my share by 
nature and fortune. For this property alone I 
am indebted to virtue. 

Daja. Oh, Nathan ! how dear you make me 
pay for your benignity ! If goodness exercised 
with such an intention can still be called so. 

Nat. With such an intention ? With what ? 

Daja. My conscience 

Nat. Daja, let me tell you before all. 

Daja. My conscience I say. . . . 

Nat. What a beautiful stuff I bought for 
you in Babylon. So rich, and so tastefully 
rich ! I hardly bring a finer one for Eecha. 

Daja. What boots it? For I tell you my 
conscience cannot be silenced any longer. 

Nat. I would like very much to see how 
you are pleased with the bracelets, ear-rings, 
ring and chain, which I purchased for you in 
Damascus. 

Daja. Now, so are you ! If you can only 
favor with gifts ! only make presents ! 



8 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Nat. Take them so cheerfully as I give 
them to you ; — and be silent ! 

Daja. Nathan, who is doubting, that you are 
not the very personification of honesty and 
generosity ? and yet ? 

Nat. Yet ! I am but a Jew. Is it not that 
you meant to say ? 

Daja. What I wished to say, you know it 
better. 

Nat. Well, keep silence ! 

Daja. I will not say a word. All that is 
censurable by this before God which I cannot 
hinder nor alter — cannot — fall upon you. 

Nat. Fall upon my head ! But where is 
she ? Where does she tarry so long ? Daja, 
if you deceive me ! Does she know that I 
arrived ? 

Daja. I ask you that ! Every nerve of her 
trembles still with terror, and her imagination 
is still painting fire to all its paintings. In 
sleep her spirit is awake, and sleeps when awake. 
Now less than a beast, then more than an 
angel. 



NATHAN THE .WISE. 9 

Nat. Poor child ! What are we men ! 

Daja. This morning she was lying long, with 
closed eyes, and was like death. She sprang 
up suddenly and cried hark I hark ! There, the 
camels of my father, are coming ! Listen ! his 
very voice, sweet and gentle ! Her eyes grew 
dim once again, and her head supported on her 
arm that was withdrawn, fell back upon the 
pillow. I ran through the gate ! And lo ! there 
you are coming ! Indeed ! you are coming 
What wonder? Her whole soul was all the 
time but with you — and him. 

Nat. And him ? with what him ? 

Daja. With him who saved her from the 
fire. 

Nat. Who was that ? Who ? Where is he ? 
Who saved to me my Recha ? Who ? 

Daja. A young Templar who was brought 
captive a few days previous, and was pardoned 
by Saladin. 

Nat. How ? A Templar whom Sultan Sala- 
din gave quarter ? Could Recha not be res- 
cued by a lesser miracle ? Oh, Grod ! 



10 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Daja. And but for him, who risked bravely 
again his unexpected prize, it were all over 
with her. 

Nat. Where is he, Daja, this generous man ? 
Where is he ? Lead me to him to throw 
myself at his feet You gave him in the first 
place the treasures I left to you ? You gave 
him all ? you promised more ? far more ? 

Daja. How could we ? 

Nat. You did not ? No ? 

Daja. He came, and nobody knows from 
whence. He went and nobody knows whither. 
Having been an utter stranger in the house, he 
was only guided by his ear and with an un- 
folded cloak he forced his way boldly through 
smoke and flames, to the voice which cried to 
us for help. We had already given him up as 
lost when out of smoke and flames he suddenly 
stood before us carrying her aloft in his strong 
arm. Cold and untouched by the loud accla- 
mations of our joy and thanks, he put down 
his booty, squeezed through the crowd and 
disappeared. 

Nat. Not forever, I hope. 



NATHAN THE WISE. 11 

Daja. We saw him walking in the first clays 
afterwards up and down under the palm-trees 
which shade the sepulchre of the Ascended. 
I approached him with joy, thanked, eulogized, 
bade and conjured him, — to see but once more 
the pious creature that cannot rest until she 
cried out her thanks at his feet 

Nat. Well? 

Daja. In vain ! He remained deaf to our 
entreaties, and poured out such sarcasm especi- 
ally upon me 

Nat. Until frightened away by this. . . 

Daja. Not at all ! I accosted him again 
every day and suffered myself to be 
scorned daily anew. What did I not endure 
from him ? What would I not bear still pa- 
tiently from him ? But it is very long, that 
he does not come any more to resort to the 
palm-trees which overshadow the grave of our 
Ascended, and nobody knows what has become 
of him. You are amazed ? You are musing ? 

Nat. I think it over what an impression this 
must have made upon a spirit like Kecha's, to 
find to be thus despised by him, whom one is 



12 NATHAN THE WISE. 

forced to esteem so highly ; to be repulsed in 
such a degree, and yet to be so attracted ! 
Heart and head must indeed quarrel with each 
other very long, whether misanthropy or mel- 
ancholy shall be victorious. None of them will 
often triumph, and the imagination which inter- 
feres in the dispute makes enthusiasts by whom 
the head must now play the heart and then the 
heart play the head. Bad exchange. The lat- 
ter, if I do not mistake, Recha, is her case. 
She gives herself up to wild nights of imagina- 
tion. 

Daja. But she does it so piously and so 
lovely. 

Nat.. It is nevertheless roving ! 

Daja. There is especially one vagary, if 
you please, very dear to her. Her Templar 
was no terrestial man, nor of this earthly world, 
but one of the angels, to the protection of whom 
her little heart readily believed to be intrusted 
from infancy, who was hitherto wrapped in a 
cloud, hovering around her, even in the fire, 
and came forth now as a Templar. Do not 
smile ! Who knows ? And if smile you must, 
let her at least one delusion upon which Jew, 



NATHAN THE WISH. 13 

Christian, and Mohammedan agree — such a 
sweet error ! 

Nat. It is also sweet to me ! Go my dear 
Daja, go, look how she is ; whether I can see 
her. I will search then for the surly humor- 
ous guardian angel. And if he be pleased to 
walk still in this world among us, if he likes to 
play chivalry so unmannerly I shall find him 
surely, and bring him with me to this place. 

Daja. You undertake very much. 

Nat. Should then sweet illusion give way to 
the sweeter truth, for believe me, Daja, a man is 
always more agreeable to men than an angel. — 
You will not be angry with me in curing the 
angelic enthusiast ? 

Daja. You are so good, and at the same time 
so bad ! I go ! but lo ! there she is coming 
herself. 



Scene II. — Recha and the Former. 

Rech. Are you entirely here, my father? 
I thought you had but sent on your voice, 



14 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Where do you tarry so long ? What moun- 
tains, deserts and rivers separate us still from 
each other? You are breathing close by the 
same wall with her, and yet you hurry not to 
embrace your Eecha ? Poor Recha, who was 
burnt in the meantime ! — Almost, well nigh 
was burnt, yes, but almost. Shudder not ! It 
is a horrible death to be burnt. Oh ! 

Nat. My child ! my darling child ! 

Rech. You had to take your voyage over the 
Euphrates, Tigris, Jordan; over — who knows 
all the rivers ? How often did I tremble for 
your life before the fire came so near me, but 
now it seems to me, to die by water is refresh- 
ment, comfort, deliverance. You are, however, 
not drowned, and I am not burnt. Now let 
us rejoice and praise God the Almighty ! He, 
he carried you and the boat upon the wings of 
his invisible angels over the faithless streams. 
He, he beckoned to my angel, that he shall 
visibly carry me on his white wings through 
the fire. 

.Nat. (White wings ! Yes, yes ! The ex- 
tended white cloak of the Templar.) 



NATHAN THE WISE. 15 

Eech. He visibly carried me, yes, visibly 
through the fire, blown away by his wings. — 
I have seen now an angel from face to face ; 
and my angel. 

Nat. Eecha were deserving it, and she would 
not behold more beauty in him than he could 
in her. 

Eech. (smilingly) Whom are you flattering, 
my father? Whom? The angel or yourself ? 

Nat. But if only a man — a man as nature 
presents him daily had rendered you the ser- 
vice, he must be for you an angel. He must 
and would be so. 

Eech. Not such an angel ! No ! A real one ! 
It was surely a real one ! — Did not you yourself 
teach me the possibility, that there are angels, 
and that God can also work miracles for those 
who love him ? Why, I love him. 

Nat. And he loves you and performs miracles 
for you' and the like hourly. Yes, he wrought 
them for you from all eternity. 

Eech. That I like to hear. 



16 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Nat. How ? If a real Templar saved you, 
shall it therefore be much less a wonder 
because it sounds 'natural and common? It is 
the greatest of all miracles, that true and real 
wonders can become so common to us in every 
day life. Without this general wonder has 
hardly any reflecting mind, called ever that a 
wonder which only children call so who are 
staring at the most unusual or marvelous 
things. 

Daja. (To Nathan) Will you burst by such 
subtilities the brains of her, that were already 
overstrained ? 

Nat. Let me alone ! Were it not wonder 
enough to my Recha that a man saved her who 
had first to be saved himself by not an insignifi- 
cant wonder ? Yes ! it is highly marvelous ! 
For who has ever heard before, that Saladin 
spared the life of a Templar ? That a Templar 
ever wished or hoped to be spared by him ? 
That he ever offered to him anything more for 
freedom than a leather belt dragging his irons, 
and at most his poinard ? 

Rech. That makes an inference for me, my 
father. — Therefore he was not a Templar, but 



NATHAN THE WISE. 17 

appeared only to be so. If a captured Templar 
comes never to the city of Jerusalem but to a 
certain death ; if such a one is never moving 
freely in Jerusalem, how could a real Templar 
save me voluntarily by night? 

Nat. Oh, how sensible ! Now, Daja, begin to 
speak. I have the report from you, that he 
was sent as a prisoner hither. It is no doubt, 
that you know more about it. 

Daja. Well, yes. Indeed, they say so ; but 
it is also rumored, that Saladin pardoned him 
on account of the resemblance between him and 
one of his brothers who was most endeared to 
him. But as twenty odd years passed away, 
since that brother died — his name was I do not 
know what, he died — I do not know where — it 
sounds very incredible, that the whole account 
is worth nothing. 

Nat. Eh ! Daja ! "Wherefore is this so in- 
credible ? Surely not, as it is here the case, in 
order to believe a thing that is still more 
incredible ? Why, could not Saladin, who 
loves all his brothers and sisters, be especial 
attached to one of them, when young, more 
affectionately? Does it not happen that two 



18 NATHAN THE WISE. 

faces resemble one another ? Is an old time 
impression lost ? Does the same not work any 
more the same % Since when ? Wherein lies 
here the incredible thing? Ah, indeed, in- 
genious Daja ! It would not be any wonder for 
you any more, and only your wonder requi . . 
. . . . deserve, I mean to say, full credit ! 

Daja. You are mocking. 

Nat. Because you rail at me. But, Recha, 
even then, your deliverance remains still a 
miracle that is only possible for Him who likes 
to govern by the weakest threads, the firmest 
resolutions and indomitable schemes of kings, 
his play, if not his raillery. 

Rech. My father ! My father, if I am mis- 
taken, you know, I do not err on purpose. 

Nat. You are rather quite ready to listen to 
reason. Look here, a forehead so or so curved ; 
the ridge of the nose so or so arched ; eye brows 
coiling themselves so round a sharp edge or 
flat bone ; a line, a flexure, an angle of an eye 
or mouth, a wrinkle, a mole, a nothing upon 
the face of a wild European — and you are 
rescued from a fire in Asia ! Is that no miracle, 



NATHAN THE WISE. 19 

you wonder-seeking people ? Why do you 
trouble even an angel ? 

Daja. Nathan, if I may speak, what harm 
would it be in thinking of having been rather 
saved by an angel than by a man ? Does not 
one feel himself much nearer to the first incom- 
prehensible cause of his deliverance ? 

Nat. Pride ! and nothing but pride ! The 
iron pot likes to be taken out of the fire with 
silver pincers to think itself a pot of silver. 
Pooh ! you ask and what harm does it ? What 
harm it does ? What boots it ? may I ask you in 
return ; — for your idea " to feel one's self much 
nearer to God," is nonsense or blasphemy. — 
But it is injurious, yes it is pernicious, indeed. — 
Come, and listen to me. — Is it not so ? Do 
not you wish both, and especially you, to 
return many great services to the being that 
saved your life, be it an angel or a man ? Is it 
not so ? Now, what favors, nay, what great 
services can you render to an angel ? You 
may thank him, and sighing pray to him ; 
you may be enchanted with him ; you can 
fast on the day consecrated to him and 
distribute alms. All this is nothing. Because 



20 NATHAN TEE WISE. 

it seems to me, that you yourself and your 
neighbor would gain by this far more than he. 
He will not grow fat by your fasting, nor rich 
by your charity, nor more magnificent by your 
transport, and not mightier by your confidence. 
Is it not so ? But a man — 

Daja. Indeed ! A man would have given 
us far more opportunity to perform something 
for him. And God knows, that we were quite 
ready to do so. But he did not want, yes, he 
did not need anything at all. He was con- 
tented in and with himself, as only angels are 
and angels can be. 

Rech. Finally as he then disappeared. . . 

1ST at. Disappeared ? What do you mean by 
that ? He was not to be seen anymore under 
the palm-trees ? How ? Or did you already 
search for him any where else ? 

Daja. We did not 

Nat. No ? You did not. Daja ? Now look 
here, what harm that can do ! Cruel enthusiasts 
If this angel fell now sick! 

Rech. Sick! 



NATHAN THE WISE. 21 

Daja. He is not sick, I hope. 

Rech. What a cold tremor takes hold of 
me ! — Daja, my forehead usually so warm, feel 
it ! is suddenly like ice. 

Nat. He is a Franconian, not acclimated ; 
he is young, unaccustomed to the hard work 
of his profession to privation and watching. 

Rech. Sick ! sick ! 

Daja. What may be possible, is Nathan 
merely guessing. 

Nat. Now there he lies, having neither a 
friend nor money to engage attendants. 

Eech. Ah, my father ! 

Nat. There he is lingering without having 
any nursing, advice and consolation, a prey to 
pains and death ! 

Eech. Where ? Where ? 

Nat. He, enough it was a man, who rushed 
into the fire for one he never knew nOr ever 
saw 

Daja. Nathan, act cautiously towards her. 



22 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Nat. He, who did not like to get acquainted 
with her nor to see her again, that she may not 
thank him 

Daja. Spare her, Nathan ! 

Nat. He did not want to see her any more, 
except he should rescue her a second time. — 
For certainty it was a man. 

Daja. Leave off speaking and look ! 

Nat. Dying he has nothing to refresh him- 
self but the consciousness of that deed ! 

Daja. Stop ! you kill her ! 

Nat. And you have killed him. Thus you 
might have killed him. Eecha ! Kecha ! It is 
medicine and not poison which I administer 
you. He lives ! Come to yourself again ! He 
is not sick, not sick at all. 

Eech. Is it sure ? Not dead ? not sick ? 

Nat. Certainly, not dead ! For God re- 
wards still here the good that was performed 
here. "Co ! But do you comprehend how much 
easier it is to give one's self up to a devout flight 
of imagination than to act good ? How the 



NATHAN THE WISE. 23 

weakest man likes to fall into a pious enthu 
siasm, although he is sometimes not clearly con- 
scious of his aim — in order to be excused from- 
doing good ! 

Rech. Ah, my father! Leave, leave your 
Eecha never all alone again ! Is it not so ? — 
May he not be only out of town ? 

ISTat. Go ! certainly ! — I see there a Mussul- 
man inspecting with an inquisitive look the 
laden camels. Do you know him ? 

Daja. Your Dervise. 

Nat. Who? 

Daja. Your Dervise ! your chess partner ! 

Nat. Al Hafi ? Is that Al Han ? 

Daja. He is now the Sultan's treasurer. 

Nat. How? Al Hafi? Are you dreaming 
again ? It is he ! Indeed, it is he ! He is coming 
up to us. Retire quick ! What shall I hear ? 

Scene III. — Nathan and Dervise. 

Derv. Fix your eyes on me as big as you 
can. 



24 NATHAN THE WISH. 

Nat. Is that you ? or is that not you ? — A 
Dervise in such a pomp ! 

Derv. Well? Why not? Can nothing be 
made of a Dervie, nothing at all ? 

Nat. Why, plenty !— But I thought always 
that the Dervise, the true Dervise, does not 
want to be made something. 

Derv. By the Prophet! It may be true, 
that I am not a faithful one. Yet, if one 
must. . . 

Nat. Must ! A Dervise must ? On no com- 
pulsion must any man, and a Dervise must ? 
Now, what must he ? 

Derv. All that one asks him for, and he con- 
siders it right, that must a Dervise. 

Nat. By our God, there you speak the 
truth. Man, let me embrace you. — You are 
still my iriend, I hope. 

Derv. Do you not ask me first what I be- 
came ? 

Nat. In spite of what you have been made ! 

Derv. Could I not have become a fellow in 



NATHAN THE WISE. 25 

the State whose friendship would not suit 
you? 

Nat.. If your heart is still Dervise I risk it 
upon that. The fellow in the state is But your 
garmeDt. 

Dery. That wants also to be honored ; what 
do you think am I at court ? Guess ? 

Nat. Dervise and nothing else. But besides 
probably cook. 

Dery. Yes, indeed ! in order to forget my 
profession by you. Why cook and not also 
butler ? Acknowledge; that Salaclin knows me 
much better. I became his treasurer. 

Nat. You ? Treasurer to him ? 

Dery. Understand : of the little treasury, 
The larger one is managed by his father and I 
have the control over the finances of his house* 

Nat. His house is large. 

Dery. And larger as you- may think ; for 
every beggar belongs to his house. 

Nat. Yet he hates beggars. 



26 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Derv. He is therefore determined to extir- 
pate them altogether! and even should he 
become by that a beggar himself. 

Nat. -"Well done ! Just so I like it. 

Derv. He is a beggar already, notwithstand- 
ing his riches ! For his treasury is every day at 
sunset much emptier than empty. The flowing 
of the tide may be ever so high in the morning, 
it runs off again long before noon. 

Nat. Because there are some channels de- 
vouring it, which can neither be filled, nor is it 
possible to stop them up. 

Derv. Exactly. ! 

Nat. I know that. 

Derv. It is certainly not good, when princes 
are vultures amidst carcasses ; but it is ten 
times worse when they are carcasses amidst 
vultures. 

Nat. Nay, Dervise, nay ! 

Derv. You speak quite at your ease, Sir ! — 
Come on ! What will you give me, if I resign 
my office to you ? 



NATHAN THE WISE. 27 

Nat. What yields your office ? 

Derv. Me? Not much. But it maybe very 
profitable for you ; because if the finances are 
at low water mark as they usually are — you 
open your sluices, advance some money and 
charge as much interest as you please. 

Nat. Compound interest of interests ? 

Derv. Certainly ! 

Nat. Until my capital stock becomes all 
interest. 

Derv. Does not this attract you ? Write 
forthwith a letter of divorce to our friendship ! 
For indeed ! I reckoned very much upon you. 

Nat. Indeed ? how so 1 

J)erv. That you will assist me in discharging 
my official duties honorably, that I will always 
have the disposal of your chest. You shake 
your head ? 

Nat. Let us now have an understanding 
about this. There is something to be disting- 
uished. You? Why not you? The Dervise 
Al Hafi is ever welcome to all that is in my 



28 NATHAN THE WISE. 

power. But Al Hafi Deftendar of Saladin, 
who, whom 

Derv. Did I not guess it ? that you are 
always as good as prudent and prudent as wise. 
Patience ! The distinction you make in Hah 
shall soon cease again. — Look here the robe of 
honor which I have received of Saladin. Before 
it is faded, and before it is worn out to rags 
with which they clothe a Dervise, it shall hang 
on the nail at Jerusalem, and I will be on the 
Ganges where I shall tread with my teachers, 
light and barefooted upon the burning sands. 

Nat. That looks like you ! 

Derv. And I will play chess with them. 

Nat. Your greatest treasure ! 

Derv. Consider only that which persuaded 
me! — That I shall not need to go myself beg- 
ging any longer ? that I be able of playing the 
rich man amongst the poor ? To be capable of 
changing in an instant the richest beggar into a 
needy rich ? 

Nat. Certainly, not that ! 

Derv. A still greater absurdity! I felt 



NATHAN THE WISH. 29 

myself flattered at the first time, flattered by the 
good hearted delusion of Saladin. — 

Nat. Which was ? 

Derv. A beggar knows only in what dispo- 
sition of mind beggars are ; a beggar only has 
learned to give to the poor in a friendly man- 
ner. Your predecessor, said he, was too cold 
and too rough. He was so unkindly when he 
gave something ; made first inquiries for the 
recipient very impetuously; was never satisfied 
that he knows the want, but he wished to 
know also the cause of it, in order to weigh 
niggardly the gift by this cause. Al Han will 
not do so ! So illiberal liberal will Saladin not 
appear in Hafi ! Al Hafi is not like ob- 
structed water-pipes, that give back the waters 
which they received clearly and quitely, so 
gushing and impure. Al Hafi thinks, Al 
Hafi feels like me ! — The fowler's fife sounded 
so very sweet until the dunce was in the net — 
What a fool I am ! A fool's fool ! 

Nat. Be easy my Dervise, be easy ! 

Derv. Ah, what ! Were it not foolishness to 



30 NATHAN THE WISE. 

oppress, enervate, plunder, torture and slaugh- 
ter men by hundred thousands, and yet to play 
a philanthropist to a few ! Were it not fool- 
ishness- to imitate the divine mercy of the Most 
High, bestowing sunshine and rain without dis- 
tinction upon good and wicked, field and desert, 
yet not to have always the liberal hand of the 
Most High ? What ? Is it not a mockery ? 

Nat. Enough of that ! Stop ! 

Derv. Let me only mention my foolishness - f 
What? Were it not foolish to find out the 
fairest side of a mockery, and to participate in 
it on account of that ? ha ? Is it not so ? 

Nat. Al Han make haste, that you come 
into your wilderness again. I fear, that living 
among men you would just forget to be a man. 

Derv. Exactly. I fear it too. Farewell ! 

Nat. What a hurry ? Stay, Al Han. Does 
the wilderness run away from you ? Wait ! 
that he might hear me ! Ho ! Al Hafi ! Here ! — 
He is gone, and I liked to ask him about 
the Templar. Probably he knows him very 
well. 



NATHAN THE WISE, 31 

Scene IV. — Daja enters hastily, Nathan. 

Daja. Oh, Nathan, Nathan ! 

Nat. What is the matter now ? 

Daja. He let himself be seen again ! He 
shows himself again ! 

Nat. Who, Daja ? who ? 

Daja. He ! He ! 

Nat. He ? He ? — When does not he show 
himself ? Well, yes ! Your he is called he. 
This should not be ! And even if he were an 
angel, no ! 

Daja. He walks up and down under the 
palm-trees, and is plucking dates from time to 
time. 

Nat. Does he eat them ? — and as a Templar ? 

Daja. Why do you plague me ? Her cov- 
etous eye detected him behind the close-wreathed 
palm-tree, and is keeping him steadily in sight. 
She desired me to ask you — to conjure you, to 
accost him immediately. Oh, make haste ! She 



32 NATHAN THE WISE. 

will motion you out of the window whether he 
go es up or he turns farther off. Oh, be quick ! 

Nat. Just so as I alighted from the camels ? 
Does this become me ? Go ; but make des- 
patch, and announce to him my return. You 
will see, that this noble man did not want to . 
enter my house merely during my absence, and 
would not come now reluctantly, if the father 
himself invite him. Go, tell him, that I invite 
him, heartily invite 

Daja. All in vain. He would not come. 
For in short, he comes not to a Jew. 

Nat. Well ! Go, go and detain him, or at 
least fix your eyes upon him. — Go, I come right 
after you. 



Scene V. — Scenery : — A square planted with palm-trees, 
under which the Templar is walking up and down. A Lay- 
Brother follows him on the side at a little distance, as if he 
would like to address him : 

Temp. This man followed me not long ago. 
Behold ! how he throws a sideling look at my 
hands ! Dear brother.. .... I could also 

call you father, is it not so ? 



NATHAN THE WISE.. 33 

Lay B. Merely brother — lay-brother only, to 
be at any service. 

Temp. Yes, clear brother, if I had only some- 
thing for myself! By God ! By God ! I have 
nothing. — 

Lay B. And nevertheless, I * give you my 
heartfelt thanks ! God grant you a thousand 
times as great all, that you would like to give 
me. For the will and not the gift makes the 
donor. Besides I was not sent after you on 
account of receiving alms. 

Temp. Yet are you sent after me ? 

Lay B. Yes, I was from the convent. 

Temp. Where I hoped to find but now a 
little pilgrim's meal ? 

Lay B. The tables were all occupied already; 
but, sir, you will also return with me again. 

Temp. To what purpose ? Indeed ! I have 
not eaten any meat for a long time ; but what 
do I care for ? The dates are now ripe. 

Lay B. Sir, be careful in using this fruit. 
It is not good to eat too much of it. It is an. 

3 



34 NATHAN THE WISE. 

obstruent to the spleen and produces melancholy 
blood. 

Temp. If I would like to become now mel- 
ancholy ? Yet, you was sent after me to give 
me this warning ? 

Lay B. Oh, no ! I shall only inquire for you 
and feel your pulse. 

Temp. And you tell me that yourself ? 

Lay. B. Why not? 

Temp. (A shrewd brother.) Has your cloister 
more the like ? 

Lay B. I do not know. I must obey, dear 
Sir. 

Temp. And you obey without much cavil- 
ling? 

Lay B. Dear Sir ! Would it be otherwise 
obedience ? 

Temp. That simplicity proves itself always 
in the right. You may communicate to me who 
likes to know me thoroughly. I will swear to 
it, that it is not yourself. 



NATHAN THE WISE. 35 

Lay B. Is it becoming me ? And what 
profit is it to me ? 

Temp. Whom is it now becoming and whom 
is it profiting to be so inquisitive ? Whom ? 

Lay B. I must think the Patriarch ; for he 
sent me after you. 

Temp. The Patriarch ? Knows he not better 
the red cross .upon the white cloak ? 

Lay B. Even I know that.- 

Temp. Well brother ? well ! — I am a Templar 
and a prisoner. — I have to add, I was captured 
near Tebnin, a castle which we tried to scale in 
the last hour of truce, in order to attack the 
city of Sidon, and now I must remark, that 
twenty of us were made prisoners ; but I alone 
was pardoned by Saladin. The Patriarch is 
now informed of all, that he needs to know. 
And still more than he needs. 

Lay B. But hardly more than he knows 
already. He likes to know why, sir, you have 
been pardoned by Saladin, you all alone ? 

Temp. Do I know it myself? — Having un- 
covered my neck I knelt upon my cloak to 



36 NATHAN THE WISE. 

receive the blow. But when Saladin fixed his 
eyes closer upon me, he rushed towards me and 
beckoned. They lifted me up. I am unshask- 
eled. I will thank him, and I see his ejes 
filled with tears. He is silent and so am I. He 
is going and i remain. How all this is con- 
nected the patriarch shall decipher to himself. 

Lay B. He infers from this, that God has 
reserved you for great, very great undertakings. 

Temp. Great indeed! For saving a Jew's 
girl from a house on fire, and leading inquisitive 
pilgrims up the mount of Sinai, and the like. 

Lay B. They will still come to pass ! In the 
meanwhile this is not so bad. Perhaps has 
the patriarch himself some more important 
.affairs for you, sir ! 

Temp. Indeed? Do you think so, brother? 
Has he intimated you already something of 
that ? 

Lay B. Ay, certainly ! . But, sir, I shall first 
sound you whether you are the man. 

Temp. Well ! Search out my intentions ! 



NATHAN THE WISE. 37 

(I will see how this man fathoms my breast.) 
ISTow, sir ? 

Lay B. The shortest way will be, that I tell 
you freely the wish of the patriarch. 

Temp. Weil! 

Lay B. Sir ! He would like to despatch a 
little letter by you. «- 

Temp. By me ? I am not a messenger. Were 
this a more glorious affair than to save a 
Jewish girl from a house on fire ? 

Lay B. It must be so ! For, says the 
patriarch, this letter is of great importance to 
all Christianity. For the right delivery of this 
letter, says the patriarch, will God reward in 
heaven with an especial ciown. And of this 
crown, says the Patriarch, is nobody more- 
worthy than you, sir ! 

Temp. Than I ? 

Lay B. For, says the patriarch, there is 
hardly any one more qualified than you to gain 
this crown. 

Temp. Than I? 



38 NATHAN THE WISH. 

Lay B. He, being free, can take a view here 
of the town. He understands how to attack 
and to protect a city. He can judge the best 
of the strength and weakness of the inner 
second wall which was built anew by Saladin, 
and can describe it plainly to the warriors of 
God, says the patriarch. 

Temp. Dear brother ! If I could only know 
the contents of the letter. 

Lay B. That — that I do not know correctly. 
The letter, is directed, however, to King Phillip. 
The patriarch, ... I often wondered how a high 
saint who lives usually in heaven altogether, 
can condescend at the same time to become 
acquainted with all the things in this world. 
That must give him a great deal of bother and 
worry. 

Temp. Now then ? The patriarch ? — 

Lay B. He knows very well and quite pos- 
itively how and where, how strong and from 
what direction Saladin will begin his cam- 
paign in case that hostilities commence again. 

Temp. Does he know that ? 



NATHAN THE WISE. 39 

Lay B. Yes, he wished to inform King 
Philip of all this, that he may be enabled to 
judge, whether the danger be so great to com- 
pel him to restore the truce with Saladin at 
any cost, which your order has already so 
•bravely broken. 

Temp. What a patriarch ! yes, that's so ! 
The dear brave man does not want me for a 
■common messenger ; he wants me — for a spy. 
Dear bi other, tell your patriarch, as far as you 
•got acquainted with my character, that is not 
my affair. I must still consider myself as a 
prisoner, and the only mission. of the Templar's 
is to fight with the sword and not to play spy- 
ism. 

Lay B. I thought so. — I will not blame you 
for that. — Yet the best part of the affair comes 
now. The patriarch has also found out, how 
the fort is called and where it is situated on the 
mount of Lebanon, where an immense amount 
of money is hoarded, and by which the pru- 
dent father of the Saladin keeps the army, and 
defrays the expenses of all military prepara- 
tions for the war. Saladin repairs to the fort 
upon solitary walks from time to time, and is 
hardly accompanied. — Do you understand ? 



40 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Temp. No, never. ~ 

Lay B. What would be easier than to take 
him prisoner, and — to despatch him ? You shud- 
der ? Oh, a pious god fearing pair of Maronites 
offered to venture it, if only a brave man would 
lead them. 

Temp. And the patriarch has designated me 
for this brave man ? 

Lay B. He thinks, that King Phillip can 
offer the best aid to this from Ptolemais. 

Temp. Me ? me, brother, me ? Did you not 
hear or just now heard under what obliagations- 
I am to Saladin ? 

Lay B. Certainly, I did. 

Temp. And nevertheless ? 

Lay B. Yes, the patriarch thinks — this is all 
right ; but God and the order .... 

Temp. Don't alter anything ! They command, 
no knavish action ! 

Lay B. Surely not ! — But the patriarch thinks 
a knavish action before man is not also a knav- 
ish action before God. 



NATHAN THE WISE. 41 

Temp. I am indebted to Saladin for my life 
and I shall rob him of his life ? 

Lay B. Fy! — But Saladin, the patriarch 
thinks, remains always an enemy of Christen- 
dom, and cannot gain the right to be your 
friend. 

Temp. Friend ? To whom I will not turn 
a traitor, an ungrateful villain ? 

Lay B. To be sure ! The patriarch thinks, 
however, one is free from his obligation before 
God and man, if the service rendered to us was 
not done for our sake. And as it is said, — thinks 
the patriarch — that Saladin pardoned you ; 
because he noticed in your looks and manners 
some resemblance of his brother. .... 

Temp. Does the patriarch know also this, and 
yet ? — Oh, were this certain ! Oh, Saladin ! — 
How? Nature has only formed one trait of 
me in the visage of your brother, and nothing* 
shall correspond with it in my soul ? Could I 
suppress all that answers this in order to please 
a patriarch? — Nature does not lie in such a 
way ! Does God contradict himself thus in his- 



42 NATHAN THE WISE. 

works ? — Go, brother ! Do not provoke me to 
anger ! — Go ! Go ! 

Lay B. I go and depart more cheerfully 
than I came. Sir, I beg your pardon. We 
cloister-people are in duty bound to obey our 
superior. 



Scene VI. — Templar and Daja who watched him for a 
while at a distance, is approaching him. 

Daja. It seems to me, that the lay-brother 
•did not leave him in the very best humor. But 
I must try to do my errand. 

Temp. That is capital ! — Does the proverb lie 
that monk and woman and woman and monk 
are devil's claws ? He is throwing me to-day 
from one into the other. 

Daja. What do I see ? You, noble knight ? 
Thank God ! Thousand thanks be to God ! 
Where have you been all the time ? You have 
not been sick, I hope ? 

Temp. No ! 

Daja. You have been well ? 



NATHAN THE WISE. 48 

Temp. Yes. 

Daja. Indeed ! We have been very anxious 
about you. 

Temp. So? 

Daja. You have surely been travelling. 

Temp. You hit it right. 

Daja. And returned just to-day ? 

Temp. No, yesterday ! 

Daja. Recha's father arrived also to-day, and 
now Recha may hope. 

Temp. For what ? 

Daja. For that she had so often requested 
you. Her father will also invite you instantly. 
He came from Babylon with twenty laden 
camels carrying the most valuable of fine spices, 
precious stones, and stuffs that can be found in 
India, Persia, Syria, and even in Sina. 

Temp. I shall buy nothing. 

Daja. His people honor him like a prince. 
But I wondered often at their calling him the 
wise and not rather the rich Nathan, 



44 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Temp. To his people, perhaps, rich and wise 
is the same. 

Daja. But above all they should call him 
the good ; for jow. have no idea, how good he 
is. When he learned how much. - Recha is in- 
debted to you, what would not he have done 
all for you, and given to you in that moment ! 

Temp. Ah! 



Daja. Try him ! come and see ! 



Temp. What ? How quickly is one moment 
passed ? 

Daja. Would I have been pleased to stay 
so long with him, had not he been good ? Do 
you think I am not impressed with the value of 
being a Christian ? I have never dreamt of 
such a thing, that I shall therefore follow my 
husband to Palestine, in order to educate there 
a Jewish girl. My clear husband was a noble 
squire in the army of the Emperor Frederic — 

Temp. A native of Switzerland, who had the 
honor and favor to be drowned with the Im- 
perial Majesty in the same river. — Woman 1 



NATHAN THE WISE. 45 

How many times did you tell me that ? Do not 
yon cease to pursue me ? 

Daja. Pursue, good God ! 

Temp. Yes, yes, pursue. I do not want to 
see nor to hear of you any more ! I will not 
be reminded always of a deed I did without 
any reflection, and when I am thinking upon it, 
it becomes an enigma to me. Indeed, I would 
not like to regret it. But look here, would 
such an accident happen again, you are the 
cause if I do not act so promptly, and if I 
would first inquire, and let burn, what is on 
fire. 

Daja. God forbid ! 

Temp. Do me at least the favor not to know 
me any more from now. I entreat this of you. 
Let me also not be troubled with her father. 
A Jew is a Jew. I am a simple Swabian. The 
girl's image vanished from my soul long ago, if 
it ever was there. 

Daja. But your's is not gone from her's. 

Temp. And to what purpose shall it be there ? 
What good of it? 



46 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Daja. Who can tell. Men are not always 
as they appear to be. 

Temp. But seldom something better. (Exit.) 
Daja. Wait ! What is your hnrry ? 

Temp. (When walking off) Woman ! Do not 
render the palm-trees odious to me, under which. 
I usually like to walk. 

Daja. G-o then, you German bear !^ Well 
go ! And nevertheless I must not lose scent of 
the beast. 

(She follows him at a distance.) 



NATHAN THE WISE. 4T 



ACT II. 



Scene 1. — Scenery — Private apartments in the Sultan's pal- 
ace. — Saladin and Sittah playing a game of chess. 

Sit. Where are you, Saladin ? how do you 
play to-day ? 

Sal. Not well ? But I should think I do. 

Sit. For me ; and hardly so. Put it in the 
same square again. 

Sal. Why so ? 

Sit. The Knight is unguarded. 

Sal. That is really so. Well then I 

Sit. Then shall I go to forks ?— 

Sal. True again. — Then check ! 

Sit. What shall you get by it? I put a 
piece before, and you are in no better situa- 
tion. 



48 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Sal. I perceive very well, it is impossible to 
come out of this embarrassment without pen- 
alty. Well, let it be so ! Take my knight. 

Sit. I want him not, I pass. 

Sal. You do not give me anything. You 
care more for this place than for the knight. 

Sit. May be so. 

Sal. Eeckon not, however, without your lost; 
for look here, I lay a bet, you did not imagine 
it? 

Sit. Certainly not. How could I expect, that 
you are tired of your queen ? 

Sal. I of my queen ? 

Sit. I see now, I shall win to-day my 
thousand Dinarians and not a Nasaras more. 

Sal. How so ? 

Sit. Do not question it ! — Because you are 
constant in your exertion to lose the game. 
But this is of no use to me ; for besides that, 
such a play is not very amusing. Did. not I 
win always the most from you, when I have 
lost? When after having lost my game did 



NATHAN THE WISE. 49 

not you give me back a double stake to com- 
fort me ? 

Sal. Ah! Look here, dear sister ! Have you 
purposely lost, whenever you did ? 

Sit. Your generosity at least, my dear 
brother, may be the cause, that I did not learn 
to play better. 

Sal. We deviate from our play. Finish it ! 
Sit. Does it remain so ? Well then ! Check ! 
and double check ! 

Sal. Indeed ! I did not see this double 
check, that my queen throws me down at the 
same time. 

Sit. Can it be changed for the better ? Let 
me see. 

Sal. No, no ; take the queen. I was never 
lucky with this piece. 

Sit. Only with this ? 

Sal. Away with it ! — This does not harm 
me ; for all is guarded again. 

Sit. My brother taught me too well how 
courteous one must be to the Queen. 

(She lets her stand.) 4 



50 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Sal. Take her or not ! I have none any more - 

Sit. To what purpose shall I take her ? 
check ! — check ! 

Sal. Go ahead ! 

Sit. Check S — and check — and check ! 

Sal. And mate ! 

Sit. Not quite. You may move the knight 
between them, or whatever you may do, it is all 
the same to me ! 

Sal. All right! — You have won, and Al 
Hafi shall pay you. Let Al Han be sent for 
immediately. You were not so very wrong y 
that my thoughts were not at the play. I was 
inattentive. And then who gives us always 
the plain pieces which do not remind us of any- 
thing nor signify something ? Did I play with 
the Iman ? But what ? Loss wants a pretext, 
Sittah, not the unformed pieces made me lose 
but your ingenuity, your considerate and rapid 
survey. . . . 

Sit. Thus you will blunt the prick of the 
loss. Enough, you were subject to an absence 
of mind more than I. 



NATHAN THE WISE. 51 

Sal. Than- you ? What could have dis- 
tracted your mind ? 

Sit. Your inattention surely not ! Oh, Sala- 
din! When shall we play so steady ag ain? 

Sal. We shall play then the more eagerly ! 
Ah ! Because there will be war again, you 
mean? Well, be it so ! On ! On ! I did 
not begin. I would have gladly extended 
the truce anew, and I would have very gladly 
given my Sittah a good husband too. And 
that must be Richard's brother. Yes, he is 
Eichard's brother. 

Sit. When you can only praise up your 
Richard ! 

Sal. If Richard's sister had married then 
our brother Melek, ah, what a house! Ah, 
it would have been the best of the first and 
best houses in the world ! You hear now, that 
I am not lazy in praising also myself. I con- 
. sider myself worthy of my friends. From such 
a house would have descended men. 

Sit. Did not I laugh instantly at the beau- 
tiful dream ? You do not know, and you 
will not know the Christians. Their pride is 



52 NATHAN THE WISE. 

to be Christians, not men. For even that, which 
seasons superstition with humanity as estab 
lished by their founder, they love, not because 
it is humane ; but because Christ taught it ; 
because Christ practised it. Happy for them, 
that he was such a good man ! Happy for 
them that they do believe his virtue on the 
word ! — But what virtue ? Not his virtue, but 
his name shall be promulgated everywhere, 
shall degrade the names of all good men, and 
devour them. They have nothing in view but 
their name, their name. 

Sal. Why else do you think, should they de- 
mand, that you and Melek shall be called Chris- 
tians before you can love a Christian consort ? 

Sit. Yes, indeed ! As if we had to expect 
love only from Christians, as Christians, with 
which the Creator endowed man and wife. 

Sal. The Christians believ-e in more paltry 
things as that they should not believe also in 
this. And yet you are mistaken. The Temp- 
lars and not the Christians are to blame, and 
they are not to blame as Christians, but as 
Templars. On account of them alone the whole 



NATHAN THE WISE. 53 

affair will come to nothing. They will not 
positively give up Acca, of which a dower has 
to be made by Kichard's sister to our brother 
Melek. That the advantage of the Knight 
shall not be in hazard, they play the monk, the 
foolish monk. And that perhaps they would 
succeed, if they make a good movement in a 
hurry, they could hardly await the time when 
the term of truce expires. Let us be merry ! 
Come on ! you gentlemen ! Come on ! I con- 
sent to every thing ! If besides this all would 
only be as it must. 

Sit. Now, what else is it that could alarm 
you ? What else could unsettle your mind ? 

Sal. All that ever put me out of counten- 
tenance. I was by our father at Libanon. He 
will succumb under anxiety 

Sit. Oh, dear ! 

Sal. He cannot get through. He is in great 
straits, and it is wanting here and there 

Sit. What is the difficulty ? What is want- 
ing? 

Sal. What else but which I do not con- 



54 NATHAN THE WISE. 

sider worthy of mentioning ? It is that which 
seems to me superfluous when I have it ; but 
when not, highly necessary. Where is Al Hafi ? 
Was not any body sent for him ? This baleful 
accursed money ! — It is well, Hafi, that you are 
coming. 



Scene II — Dervise Al Hafi, Saladin and Sittah. 

Al H. The money from Egypt has probably 
arrived. I wish it would be only a great deal. 

Sal. Have .you intelligence of it ? 

Al H. I have not. I think, I shall receive 
it here. 

Sal. Pay Sittah one thousand Dinars. 

(Walking thoughtfully up and down.) 

Al H. Pay instead of receive ! Oh, that's 
beautiful! That is for something much less 
than nothing. Pay to Sittah ? And again to 
Sittah ? And lost ? Lost again at chess ? 
There stands yet the game ! 

; Sit. Do you grudge me my good fortune ? 



NATHAN THE WISE. 55 

Al H. (examining the game) What, grudge ? 
—If — You know it very well. 

Sit. (motioning to him.) Hush, Han, hush ! 

Al H. (still considering the game.) First be 
pleased with it yourself ! 

Sit. Al Han, hush ! 

Al H. (to Sittah.) The white ones were 
yours. Did you give check ? 

Sit. It is well, that he heard nothing. 

Al H. Is it not his turn to move ? 

Sit. (approaching him.) Say then, that I can 
i-eceive my money. 

Al H. (his eyes still fixed upon the game.) 
Well, yes, you shall receive it as you always 
did. 

Sit. How ? Are you crazy ? 

Al. H. The game is not yet played out- 
You have not lost, Saladin. 

Sal. (hardly listening.) Nevertheless! Nev- 
ertheless ! Pay ! pay ! 



56 NATHAN THE WISH. 

Al H. Pay ! Pay ! yes, there stands your 
queen. 

Sal. (still so.) That does not count, belongs 
not any more to the play ! 

Sit. Well, say, that I may send for the 
money. 

Al H. (still in deep musing on the game.) 
Of course, as usual. Although the queen does 
not count anything ; you are, nevertheless, not 
checkmated. 

Sal. (going nearer and overturns the game.) 
I am. and will be so. 

Al. H. Well so ! Winning is like the game I 
As it was won, so will it be paid. 

Sal. (to Sittah.) What says he ? what? 

Sit. (motioning to Hafi from time to time.) 
You know him well. He likes to bristle up • 
looks for entreaty, is sometimes a little jealous. 

Al H. May be ! May be ! — I had rather 
myself her wits. Were rather myself as good 
as she. 

Sit. He paid, however, always promptly, and 



NATHAN THE WISE. 5T 

will do so to-day. Let him alone ! Go, Al 
Hafi, go. I will take care to send for the- 
money. 

Al H. I will not join in this mummery any 
longer. He must be apprized of it. 

Sal. Who ? and what ? 

Sit. Al Hafi, is this your promise ? Do you 
keep so your word ? 

Al H. How could I imagine, that you would 
let it come as far as that ? 

Sal. Well ? Do you not let me know any 
thing of it ? 

Sit.. I pray, Al Hafi, be discreet. 

Sal. That is curious ! What can Sittah beg 
so ardently and solemnly of a stranger, of a 
Dervise to be excused from doing it rather than 
of me, her affectionate brother ? Al Hafi, I 
command you now. Speak, Dervise ! 

Sit. Dear brother, let a trifle not affect you 
more than it is worth. You know, I won of 
you the same sum in chess several times. And 
as I do not need the money at present, and as it 



.38 NATHAN THE WISH. 

is not so plenty in Han's treasury, the items 
may remain there. But do not be afraid! I 
will neither make a present with them to you, 
my dear brother, nor to Han, nor to the trea- 
sury. 

Al H. Yes, if it would be only that ! that ! 

Sit. And more too. The annuity you settled 
•once on me, remained also there since a few 
months. 

Al H. This is not all. 

Sal. Not all ?— Will you tell ? 

Al H. Since we expect the money from 
Egypt has she 

Sit. (to Saladin.) Why do you hear him ? 

Al H. Not only received nothing. . . . 

Sal. Good girl ! Even advanced me some 
money besides. Is it not so ? 

Al H. Supported the whole court ; supplied 
all alone your sumptuousness. 

Sal. Ah ! this, this is my sister ! (embracing 
tier.) 



NATHAN THE WISH. 59 

Sit. My brother, who would have made uie 
so rich as you did in order to be able to do 
this? 

Al H. Will soon make you as beggarly as 
he is himself. 

Sal. I poor ? the brother poor ? When had 
I more ? when less ? One coat, one sword, one 
horse and one Grod ! What need I more ? 
When can I be wanting of them ? And yet I 
could scold at you. 

Sit. Do not, my brother ! Could I but re- 
lieve so our father from his sorrows ! — 

Sal. Oh ! Oh ! You have now cast down at 
once my alacrity again. I, for myself, am not 
and cannot be in want of anything. But he, 
he is wanting, and with him we all. — Say, what 
shall I do ? It may be, it will not come from 
Egypt for a long time ! Grod knows where it 
sticks. It is still there — every thing in order, 
I will consent now to allow some abatement, 
retrench much the expenses, and to spare all 
that concerns myself. If only I and nobody 
else would suffer in it. — But what would this 
amount to ? One horse, one coat and one 



60 NATHAN THE WISE. 

sword I must have after all, and my God cannot 
be beaten down of anything. He is already 
satisfied with little enough ; with my heart. I 
have reckoned very much upon the surplus in 
your treasury, Al Han ! 

Al H. Surplus ? Say yourself, whether you 
would not let me be empaled, or at least 
strangled, if you had found me to have any 
surplus. I could rather venture to be guilty of 
embezzlement. 

Sal. Well, but what shall be done ? Could 
not you borrow from any one else but from 
Sittah ? 

Sit. Brother, had I allowed to him to de- 
prive me of this prerogative ? Me by him ? 
Even now I insist upon. I am not yet drained 
altogether. 

Sal. Not altogether ! That would be aw- 
ful ! — Han, go immediately, make arrangements 
for borrowing money from whom you can, and 
in any manner you can ! Go, borrow, promise ! 
But, Hafi, do not borrow from those, whom I 
have made rich. For borrowing from these 
might be called demanding my gifts back again. 



NATHAN THE WISE. 61 

Go, to the greatest misers ; for they would 
like it best to lend me ; because they would 
know very well, that their money will be dis- 
played in my hands to the best advantage. 

Al H. I do not know any of them. 

Sit. Hafi ! Just now I recollect of having 
heard, that your friend returned home. 

Al H. (perplexed.) Friend? My friend? 
Who is this ? 

Sit. Your highly praised Jew. 

Al H. A highly praised Jew ? and by me? 

Sit. Whom God — I remember very well the 
expression you once used concerning him — 
whom God has given in a high degree the 
greatest and smallest of all earthly treasures. 

Al H. Did I say so? What did I mean 
by it ? 

Sit. The smallest : wealth, and the greatest : 
wisdom. 

Al H. How? of a Jew ? Did I say so res- 
pecting a Jew ? 



62 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Sit. Did you not say so of your Nathan ? 

AlH. Oh, yes! Of him! of Nathan! I did 
not think of him at all. — Indeed ? Has he 
finally returned home ? Eh, it may not stand 
so very badly with him. True, they called him 
once the wise and also the rich. 

Sit. Now they call him the rich more than 
ever. The whole city rings with the report 
what valuable things and treasures he brought 
along with him. 

Al H. Being now the rich again, he will 
also be the wise again. 

Sit. "What do you think, Hafi, if you would 
apply to him ? 

Al. H. What will you have me ask of him ? 
for money ? There you know him. — He shall 
trust ! That is just his wisdom, that he trusts 
nobody. 

Sit. You have portrayed to me his character 
quite otherwise at another time. 

Al H. In case of need he will lend you some 
merchandise ; but money, money ? money never. 



NATHAN THE WISH. 63 

Besides he is certainly a Jew as there are- 
not many Jews. . He has pluck ; he knows life 
and plays chess very well. But he distinguishes 
himself above all the other Jews in evil as well 
as in good. Do not reckon upon him. - He 
gives to -the poor, and perhaps as well as 
Saladin. If not quite as much, yet even so 
heartily, and even so without distinction, Jew 
and Christian, and Mussulman and Parsee, 
is all the same to him. 



Sit. And such a man 



Sal. How does it come that I never heard 
of that man ? 

Sit. Should he not lend Saladin ? Not 
Saladin who needs it only for others and not 
for himself ? 

Al H. There the Jew shows himself again, 
the very common Jew ! Believe me sir ! So 
envious he is of giving charity, so jealous is he, 
that he likes to monopolize the thanks given : 
" God reward you for it," whenever it is said in 
this world. Therefore he does not lend any 
body, that he shall always be able to give 
And as charity and not courtesy is commanded 



«4 NATHAN THE WISE. 

to him in the holy law, liberality causes him to 
be the most disobliging fellow in the world. 
Though for a long time I am at variance with 
him; think not therefore I would not do him 
justice. He is fit for anything, but not for that ; 
certainly, not for that. I will go immediately 
and knock at other doors. I recollect jast of a 
Moor who being rich and avaricious. — I go, 
I go. 

Sit. What is your hurry, Han ? 

Sal. Let him alone ! Let him go ! 



Scene III. — Sittah — Saladin. 

Sit. He hasted away as if he would like to 
get out of rny sight ! What means it ? Was 
he deceived in him or does he wish to de- 
ceive us? 

Sal. How ? You ask me that ? I hardly 
know of whom you were speaking. I hear of 
your Jew, your Nathan the first time to-day. 

Sit. Is it possible, that a man remained 
hidden from you of whom they say, he explored 



NATHAN THE WISE. 65 

the sepulchres of David and Solomon, and by 
a powerful magic word understands to open 
their seals ? From there he brings then to 
light from time to time an immense wealth 
which betrays no smaller source. 

Sal. If this man has obtained his riches 
from sepulchres, then these are surely not the 
graves of Solomon and David. Fools were 
buried there. 

Sit. Or miscreants ! — His source of wealth 
is by far richer and more inexhaustible than 
such a grave full of mammon. 

Sal. For he is a merchant, as I understand. 

Sit. His sumpter mule is urged upon all 
highways through all the deserts. His vessels 
lie at anchor in all ports. This Al Hah* told 
me himself, adding rapturously, how good and 
noble this his friend, uses all that he does not 
consider too mean to gain so sagaciously and 
so diligently, remarking how free his spirit is 
from all prejudices, his heart open to every 
virtue, and how it agrees with every beauty. 

Sal. But Hafi spoke of him now so doubt- 
fully and indifferently. 

5 



66 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Sit. Indeed ! not indifferently ! He was 
embarrassed. He thought it dangerous to 
praise him, and yet he would not find fault 
with his conduct undeservedly. How ? or is 
it indeed so, that even the best of his people 
cannot escape the infirmities of his nation 
altogether ? That Al Hafi ought certainly to 
be ashamed about this side of his friend ? Be 
it as it may ! — The Jew be more or less so. He 
being rich and a Jew, that is enough for us. 

Sal. Yet you would not take his own by 
force, sister ? 

Sit. Well, what do you call by force ? Fire 
and sword ? No ! no ! What needs any force 
against the weak, but their own weakness ? 
Come now with me in my harem to hear a song- 
stress that I bought but yesterday. In the 
meantime, perhaps a plan will ripen in me which 
I will practise on Nathan. — Come ! 



NATHAN THE WISE. 67 

Scene IV. — Scenery : — Before the house of Nathan, which 

$ta?ids near the palm trees. — Recha and Nathan coming out. — 

To them, Daja. 

Kech. You have tarried too long, my father, 
He is hardly to be met with anymore. 

Nat. Well, well ! If not here, here under 
the palm-trees anymore, yet somewhere else. 
Be only easy now ! See there ! Is that not Daja 
approaching us ? 

Kech. She has surely lost him. 

Nat. I do not think so. 

Eech. Else she would walk a little faster. 

Nat. She has probably not seen us yet. . . 

Eech. Now she sees us. 

Nat. And she approaches with double quick 
steps. See ! — Be only tranquil ! tranquil ! 

Rech. Would you want a daughter that 
remains here tranquil ? Being unconcerned for 
one whose charitable gift is her life ? A life 
that is only so dear to her ; because she is 
owing it to you first. 

Nat. I might not have you otherwise than. 



68 NATHAN THE WISE. 

you are, even if I would know, that some other 
thing is stirred up within your soul. 

Rech. What my father ? 

Nat. You ask me ? Ask me so timidly ? 
What ever is going on in your heart is nature 
and innocence. Be not alarmed about that. 
It does not trouble me. But promise me, if 
your heart should once explain itself louder, 
that you will not conceal from me any one of 
its desires. 

Rech. The idea of the possibility to disguise 
my heart before you makes me tremble. 

Nat. Speak not anymore of it ! It is done 
once for all ! — There is Daja. — Well ? 

Daja. He is still walking under the palm- 
trees. He will come directly around that walL 
— See, here he comes. 

Rech. Ah! He seems to be undecided 
whither ? Whether to go on or back, to right 
or left? 

Daja. No, no ! He will surely go still fre- 
quently around the cloister and then he has to 
pass by here. — How much will you bet ? 



NATHAN THE WISE. 69 

Eech. All right ! all right ! — Have you spoken 
with him already ? And how is he to-day ? 

Daja. As usual. 

Nat. Take heed, that he may not perceive 
you here. Step further back. Gro rather in 
entirely. 

Eech. But one glimpse more ! Ah, the 
hedge is robbing me of him ! 

Daja. Come ! Come ! Papa is perfectly 
right. You run the risk, that if he sees you, 
he will turn back on the spot. 

Rech. Ah, the hedge ! 

Nat. And if he comes suddenly out of the 
hedge there, he cannot otherwise but surely see 
you. Therefore step back ! 

Daja. Come ! Come ! I know a window, 
where we can observe them. 

Rech. Yes ? (both going into the house.) 



.Scene V. — Nathan and soon after him the Templar,. 

ISTat. I am nearly afraid of this eccentric 



10 NATHAN THE WISE. 

man. His harsh virtue almost startles me- 
That one man should be able to perplex thus? 
his fellow man ! — Well ! Here ! He comes. — 
By God ! A youth like a man. I like this 
good, bold look, this noble walk. The shell 
only can be bitter ; but the kernel surely now 
— Where did I see the like ? — Excuse me, 
noble Frank 

Temp. What? 

Nat. Permit me 

Temp. What, Jew ? what ? 

Nat. That I venture to address you. 

Temp. Can I hinder it ? But be short. 

Nat. Excuse me, do not hasten by so proudly 
and so disdainfully, a man whom you havo 
obliged to you forever. 

Temp. How so ? Oh, I almost guess it now.. 
Is it not so ? You are 

Nat. My name is Nathan. I am the father 
of the girl whom your magnanimity saved from 
the fire, and I am coming 

Temp. If it is to thank me, spare your words I 



NATHAN THE WISH. 71 

I had already to sustain too much thanks for 
such a trifle. — Especially you, you are not at all 
under any obligations to me. Did I know then, 
that the girl was your daughter ? It is the 
duty of the Templars to succor the first the 
best whom they see in distress. Besides this 
my life was very burdensome to me in that 
moment. I took gladly, very gladly the oppor- 
tunity to risk it for another life — even if it were 
only the life of a Jewess. 

Nat. Great ! great and abominable. But 
your motive can be imagined ! The modest 
greatness shelter itself behind abhorrence to 
avoid admiration. But if it despises so the 
sacrifice of admiration, what sacrifice would it 
less despise ? Knight, were you not a strauger 
and a prisoner here, I would not ask you so 
boldly. Say, command in what can I serve 
you? 

Temp. You ? In nothing. 

Nat. I am a rich man. 

Temp. I never considered the richer Jew the 
better. 

Nat. Dare you therefore not use the better 



n NATHAN THE WISE. 

he is possessed of? Dare you not derive any 
advantage from his wealth ? 

Temp. Well, I will not refuse that entirely ; 
not on account of my cloak. When this will 
be worn out so that neither stitch nor a patch 
hold any longer, I will come and borrow from 
you cloth or money for a new one. Look not 
at once so gloomy. You may feel secure ! It 
has not yet come so far as that with it. You 
see, it is still in a tolerable good condition. 
This corner only has there a soiled spot ; it is 
singed. And it became so when I carried your 
daughter through the fire. 

Nat. (taking hold of the corner of the cloak 
and looking at it.) It is strange, however, that 
such a spot, such a burning mark bear a more 
favorable testimony to this man than his own 
mouth. I like to kiss the spot at once ! Oh, 
excuse, I did not do it intentionally ! 

Temp. What? 

Nat. I dropped a tear upon it. 

Temp. No matter ! It has more of such drops. 
(But this Jew begins to confound me now.) 



NATHAN THE WISE. 73 

Nat. Will you be so kind as to send this 
cloak to my daughter ? 

Temp. To what purpose ? 

Nat. To press her mouth upon this spot 
also ; because she is wishing in vain to embrace 
your knees themselves. 

Temp. But, Jew — you are called Nathan? 
But Nathan — you compose your words very 
good — very pointed — I am perplexed. — Cer- 
tainly, I had 

Nat. You may be pretending and dissemb- 
ling as much as you want, I find you out here 
also. You were too good, too brave in order 
to be more polite. The girl all sensation ; the 
female messenger all officiousness ; the father far 
awaj from home. — You watched over her good 
name, spared her the trial, and you have fled 
not to conquer. For that I thank you also. — 

Temp. I must acknowledge, you know how 
Templars ought to think. 

Nat. Only Templars ? They merely ought ? 
And this is because the rules of the order 



74 NATHAN THE WISE. 

demand it so ? I know how good men think, 
know, that all countries contain good men. 

Temp. With some difference, I hope. 

Nat. To be sure ! They differ in regard to 
color, clothes and form. 

Temp. And as to this, sometimes more and 
sometimes less here than there. 

Nat. That difference is not worth much. 
The great man needs everywhere much soil. 
And several, too near planted, shatter each other 
like trees, their branches. ' Middling people*' 
like we. are, we find everywhere in great num- 
bers. But the one must not find fault with the 
other, and the knot must learn to tolerate the 
snag. The little peak must not boast, that it 
were the only one which sprung not from earth. 

Temp. It is very well said. — But do you 
know the people, that made the first censure on 
human nature ? Do you know Nathan, what 
people were the first that called themselves the 
chosen people ? How, although I do not hate 
these people, if I could, nevertheless, not for- 
bear despising them, on account of their pride 
which they bequeathed to Mussulman and 



NATHAN THE WISH. 7.5, 

Christian that only their God must be the 
true God ? You are startled at my speaking 
so as a Christian and a Templar ? When and 
where did the pious madness of having the 
better God and of pressing him as best upon 
the whole world show itself more in the dark- 
est form than it does at present here? He, 
whom here and now the bandage does not fall 
from his eyes, .... But be blind, who 
will ! — Forget what I said, and let me alone. 
(Being about to go.) 

Nat, You do not know, how much stronger I 
am attached to you. Come, we must, must be 
friends ! Despise my people as much as you 
please. Neither of us both has chosen his 
people. Are we our people ? What does the 
word people mean ? Are Christian and Jew 
rather Christian and Jew than they were 
men? Oh, may I have found in you another 
who is satisfied to be called a man ! 

Temp. Yes, by God ! this you have Nathan ! 
This you have! — Your hand ! — I am ashamed 
of having mistaken you for a moment. 

Nat. I am proud of it ! They mistake only 
the mean very seldom ! 



76 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Temp. And the uncommon is hardly forgot- 
ten. — Yes, Nathan! we must, must become 
friends. 

Nat. We are this already. — How will my 
Recha rejoice! Ah, what a cheerful future 
opens befere my eyes ! — Know her only 1 

Temp. I am inflamed with desire. — Who is 
rushing there out of your house ? Is it not her, 
Daja? 

Nat. Indeed ! But why so anxiously ? 

Temp. Nothing befell our Recha, I hope? 



Scene VI. — The Former. — Daja in haste. 

Daja. Nathan ! Nathan ! 

Nat. What? 

Daja. Excuse noble Knight, that I must in- 
terrupt you. 

• Nat. Well, what is it? 

Daja. The Sultan has sent for you. The 
Sultan wants to see you, Grod ! The Sultan. 



NATHAN THE WISE. IT 

Nat. Me ? The Sultan ? He probably desires 
to see what new goods I have brought. Tell 
that little or nothing at all has been yet un- 
pacKed. 

Daja. No, no ; he will not see anything. 
He wants to speak with you personally as soon 
as possible. 

Nat. I will come. Go home, go 1 

Daja. Take it not amiss, your worship. — 0, 
God, we are very perplexed about that which 
the Sultan wants. 

Nat. That will soon show itself I Go, now r 
go! 



Scene VII. — "Nathan and the Templar. 

Temp. Do you not know him yet ? I mean 
in person ? 

Nat. Saladin ? not yet. I did not avoid of 
seeing him nor did I endeavor to get acquainted 
with him. The general reputation spoke by 
far too favorable of him, that I should not 
rather believe than perceive myself. But now 



18 NATHAN THE WISE. 

— provided it be so — lias he by saving your 
life 

Temp. Yes ! It is certainly so. The life that 
I have is his gift. 

Nat. By which he made me a present of a 
double and three-fold life. This has changed 
everything between us and enchained me at 
once to his service forever. I can hardly wait 
for his first command. I am ready for every- 
thing and I am prepared to confess to him, that 
I am so for your sake. 

Temp. I could not thank him yet, although I 
got often in his way. The impression I made 
on him came as suddenly as it vanished. Who 
knows whether he recollects me. And neverthe- 
less, he must at least once more remember me, 
in order to decide fully my fate* It is not 
•enough, that I still exist by his command and 
live by his will ; but I must wait to learn from 
him whose will shall control my life. 

Nat. No otherwise ! The more so I will not 
tarry. There will be dropped a word perhaps, 
that affords me an opportunity to speak of you. 
Allow, excuse me — I am in great haste ! But 
when shall we see you in our house ? 



NATHAN THE WISH. 19 

Temp. As soon as I am permitted. 

Nat. As soon as you want. 

Temp. To-day, then. 

Nat. And your name ? — if you please. 

Temp. My name was — is Curd von Stauffen 
—Curd ! 

Nat. Yon Stauffen ?— Stauffen ?— Stauffen ? 

Temp. Why does the name surprise you so 
much ? 

Nat. Von Stauffen ? There have already 
been several of this family 

Temp. Oh, yes ! Several of this family were 
here and moulder already here in the grave. 
Even my uncle, — I mean to say my father. — 
But why do you look so piercingly at me more 
and more ? 

Nat. Oh, nothing ! nothing I How can I 
get tired to gaze at you ? 

Temp. Therefore I will leave you first. The 
inquirer's look found not seldom more, than he 
wished to find. Nathan I am afraid of it. Let 



80 NATHAN THE WISH. 

time make us acquainted by degrees and not 
curiosity. (Exit.) 

Nat. (looking after him with astonishment.) 
" The inquirer found not seldom more than he 
wished to find." It is, however, as if he would 
be reading in my soul ! — Indeed, this could also 
happen to me ! He has not only Wolfs waist 
and step ; but also his voice. Exactly so threw 
Wolf up his head, so carried Wolf his sword 
in his arm, even so rubbed Wolf his eye-brows 
with his hands to conceal, as it were, the fire of 
his look. — How such deep imprinted pictures 
can sleep in us for sometime until a word or a 
sound awakens them ! Yon Stauffen ! That 
is so ! that's so ! Filneck and Stauffen ! — I will 
soon learn this more accurately. Yes, immedi- 
ately. Now first to Saladin. — But how ? Is 
not Daja listening there 1 Come, come nearer, 
Daja. 



Scene VIII. — Daja and JSathan. 

Nat. What is the matter? The hearts of 
you both are already anxious to learn something 
else than that which Saladin asks of me. 



NATHAN THE WISE. 81 

Daja. Do you blame her for it ? You have 
just commenced to talk with him more famil- 
iarly when the Sultan's message scared us away 
from the window. 

Nat. Well, tell her, she may expect him 
every minute. 

Daja. Sure ? Sure ? 

Nat. Can I certainly rely upon you, Daja ? 
Stand upon your guard I pray you. You shall 
not regret it. Your conscience will find its 
account in it. But do not spoil anything of my 
plan. When you relate and ask, do it with 
discretion and reserve 

Daja. Is it necessary that you shall still 
remind me of all this ! — I am going, and you 
may go too. For see there is coming a second 
messenger from the Sultan. Al. Hafi, your 
Dervise. (Exit.) 



Scene IX. — Nathan and Al Hafi. 

Al H. Halloo ! I am just coming to see you 
again. 



82 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Nat. Is it so very pressing ? What does he 
want from me ? 

Al H. Who ? 

Nat. Saladin — I am coming, I am coming. 

Al H. To whom ? To Saladin ? 

Nat. Are you not sent by Saladin ? 

Al H. I? No. Has he already sent for 
you ? 

Nat. Yes, cerfainly he did. 

Al EF. Now, it is true. 

Nat. What ? What is true? 

Al H. That .... I am not to blame 
for it. Grod knows I am not guilty. What did 
I not say of you, and uttered falsehoods in 
order to avoid it ! 

Nat. What was to avoid ? What is true ? 

Al H. That you became now his deftendar. 
I pity you. But I cannot stand it. I shall 
depart in this hour, I will go. You have 
already heard whither and you know the way. 
Have you any commissions on this road, tell 



NATHAN THE WISH. 83 

me, and I am at your service. It must be cer- 
tainly not more than what a naked person can 
carry with him. I am going, say it immedi- 
ately. 

Nat. But consider it, Al Hafi consider, that 
I do not know yet anything. What are you 
talking about ? 

Al H. Do you bring the bags with you in- 
stantly ? 

. Nat. Bags? 

Al H. Well, the money, that you shall ad- 
vance to Saladin. 

Nat. And nothing else ? 

Al H. Shall I witness it, how he will daily 
excavate you from the top to the toe ? Shall I 
bear it, that lavishness shall so long borrow and 
borrow from the never-empty store-houses of 
the wise liberality until even the indigenous 
mice must starve therein to death ? — Do you 
imagine perhaps that he, who needs J. your 
money, he would also follow your advice ? He 
the follower of an advice ? When did Saladin 



84 NATHAN THE WISH. 

take advice from any one? Think Nathan, how 
he treated me just now. 

Nat. Well! 

Al H. I came to him, when he and his sister 
had been at chess. Sittah does not play badly 
and the game, that Saladin considered as lost 
and had already given up, stood there still 
untouched. I looked at it, and found, that this 
play was far from being lost. 

Nat. Ah, this was a discovery for you •! 

Al H. He needed to move the king to the 
pawn against her check. If I could only show 
it you ! 

Nat. Oh, I trust to your word ! 

Al H. For thus the rook takes the field, and 
she was checkmated. T wanted to show him all 
this, I called him.— Think 

Nat. Was he not of your opinion ? 

Al H. He did not give heed to what I uttered, 
and threw disdainfully the whole play on one 
heap. 

Nat. Is that possible ? 



NATHAN THE WISE. 85 

Al H. And said : He will now be check- 
mated. He will ! Do you call that playing ? 

Nat. Hardly ! It is indeed playing with 
the play. 

Al H. Yet they did not play for a hollow 
nut! 

1ST at. Money is no object ! That is the least. 
But not to listen to you at all, not to mind 
what you said about a point of such importance, 
and not to admire your piercing and discern- 
ing eye, that cries out to heaven for vengeance. 
Is it not so ? 

Al H. Eh, what ! I tell you only so that 
you may see what a strong-headed man he is. 
In short, I, I cannot deal with him any longer. 
There I run about to all the mean moors, asking 
who likes to lend him some money. I, who 
never begged for myself, shall now borrow for 
others. Borrowing is not much better than go- 
a-begging, as applying money on usury is not 
much better than stealing. I do not require 
both among my benefactors on the Ganges, and 
I need not be the tool of both. Only on the 
Ganges, on the Ganges there are men. You are 



86 NATHAN THE WISE. 

the only man here who is worthy of living also 
on the Ganges. Will you come with, me ? 
Leave at once the whole trumpery with him 
which is his only aim. He will deprive you of 
that by degrees after all. Thus you get rid 
then on a sudden of all vexation. I purchase 
you a delk.* Come ! Come ! 

Nat. I should think, that will remain to us 
to do at any time. But Al Hafi, I will consider 
it. Wait 

Al H. Consider ? No, such a thing need 
not be weighed in the mind. 

Nat. Until only I shall return from the Sul- 
tan and I shall have first taken leave. . . . 

Al H. He, who is considering, tries to find 
motives for not doing it. He who cannot make 
up his mind at once to live by himself, he lives 
forever a slave of others. Do as you please ! 
Farewell ! Do all, that suits your fancy. My 
way is there, and yours here. 

Nat. You will probably settle first your 
accounts ! 

* A Dervise's garment. 



NATHAN THE WISH. 87 

Al H. Eh, what ! the clear amount of the 
treasury is not worth counting it, and you or 
Sittah will answer for my acount. Farewell ! 
(Exit.) 

Nat. (looking after him.) I guarantee 
that ! — Wild, good, noble — how shall I call 
him ? The true beggar is only and solely the 
true king. (Exit on another side.) 



NATHAN THE WISE. 



ACT III. 



Scene 1. — Scenery : — A room in Nathan's house. Recha,. 
Daja. 

Rech. How, Daja, did father express him- 
self? "I may expect him every moment ?"" 
This sounds — is it not so — as if he would ap- 
pear very soon. — But how many momeDts 
passed by already ! Oh well ! Who would 
think of the past ! I will only live in every 
next moment. There will be one coming, that 
brings him at last. 

Daja. Oh, that cursed message of the Sultan !: 
Else Nathan would have brought him instantly 
with him. 

Rech. And if this moment will have arrived p 
if this ardent and best of my wishes will be 
fulfilled what then ? — what then ? 



NATHAN THE WISH. 82 

Daja What then ? Then T will hope, that 
my warmest wish will also be fulfilled. 

Rech. What shall in its place enter then my 
breast that has already forgotten to become 
wide without a prevailing wish? — Nothing? 
Oh, I am frightened ! 

Daja. My wish shall then take the place of 
that which was fulfilled. My desire, that yon 
may be in Europe in the hands of one worthy 
of you. 

Rech. You are mistaken. — That which 
causes this within you the same prohibits me of 
ever entertaining it. Your fatherland has some 
attractions for you, and mine shall not have any 
for me ? The picture of your relations that is 
not quite extinguished in your soul shall have 
more power than that of mine whom I see, lay 
hold of and hear ? 

Daja. Resist as much as you please ! The 
ways of heaven are the ways of heaven. If he 
were now your deliverer by whom his God, for 
whom he is fighting, would lead you into the 
land and to the people for whom you were 
born ? 



$0 NATHAN THE WISH. 

Rech. What are you talkiDg again, dear 
Daja ! Indeed ! You have your curious 
notions ! His, his God ? for whom he is fight- 
ing ! Who does own God ? What is that for 
a God who is possessed of a man ? Who needs 
some one to fight for him ? How does any 
one know for what mass of earth he was born, 
if not for that upon which he has been born ? 
— If my father would hear you talking so! 
What has he done to you, that you impose on 
me a fortune by allusion as far away from him. 
as possible ? What has he done to you, that 
you like to mix the seeds of reason which he 
has strewn so pure in my soul with the weeds or 
flowers of your country? Dear Daja, he does 
not want your gay flowers upon my soil ! And 
I must tell you, I feel it myself, that my soil is 
weakened and exhausted by your flowers even 
though they would become her ever so nicely. 
Their fragrancy, their sour-sweet scent makes 
me quite bewildered and dazzling! — Your 
brains are more used to it. I do not blame 
you for your stronger nerves, that you can 
endure it. But it does not suit me. And in 
regard to your angel, was I not very near be- 
coming a fool through him ? I feel still 
ashamed of that farce before my father ! 



NATHAN THE WISE. 91 

Daja. Farce ! — As if the reason were only 
here at home ! Farce ! Farce ! If I dare only 
speak ! 

Rech. Dare you not ? When was I not 
all ears if you was ever pleased to converse 
with me on your defenders of the faith ? Did 
not I always admire their deeds and shed tears 
for their sufferings ? Their belief did certainly 
never appear to me the most heroic in them. 
But the more consoling is the doctrine, that the 
devotion to God depends not at all on that 
which we think of Grod. — Dear Daja, my father 
told us this very often, and you have frequently 
agreed with him about it Why do you under- 
mine yourself what you have built up with him 
together ? Dear Daja, this is not the best con- 
versation at present, when we are looking 
towards our friend. For me it is, indeed ! 
Because it is of great importance to me, whe- 
ther he also . . . ! Hark Daja ! — Is not 
any one approaching our door ? Oh, if it were 
he*! Hark ! 



92 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Scene II. — Recha, Daja and the Templar for whom some 
one opens the door on the outside with the words : Walk in 
here ! 

Eech. (starting back, but collecting herself 
intending to fall at his feet.) It is he ! — My 
deliverer, Oh ! 

Temp. To avoid that I have appeared so late I 
and yet — 

Eech. At the feet of this proud man I will 
once more thank Grod, and not the man. The 
man wants no thanks. Wishing it quite as 
little as the bucket does, that busied in extin- 
guishing the fire. It let fill and empty itself 
easily. Exactly so is the man. He was also 
driven into the fire. There I fell by chance 
into his arms and remained there by chance like 
a spark upon his cloak until I do not know 
what, has thrown us both out of the fire. — What 
is there to thank for ? — In Europe the wine 
instigates to quite other deeds. Templars must 
act in such a way, they have, as a little better, 
trained dogs, to carry the things out of the fire 
or water. 

Temp, (looking at her all the time with 



NATHAN THE WISE. 93 

amazement and uneasiness.) Oh, Daja, Daja ! 
If my ill humor in moments of sorrow and bit- 
terness has received you with harsh words, why 
did you apprize her of every folly my tongue 
has uttered ? Daja, that is too affectedly re- 
sented ! But if you would only henceforth 
represent me better to her. 

Daja. Knight, I do not believe these little 
thorns thrown at her heart did you much harm. 

Rech. How ? You were distressed ? And 
you have been more sparing of your sorrow 
than of your life ? 

Temp. Dear, sweet girl ! How is my soul 
divided among ear and eye ! — This was not the 
girl, no, no, this was not she, that I carried out 
of the fire. Because he, who had only known 
her, would he not have carried her out of 
the fire ? — Who would have waited for me ? 
— Indeed ! — horror — disguises — (Pause during 
which he is absorbed in contemplation of her.) 

Rech. But I find you still the same. — (In 
like manner until she continues to arouse him 
out of his astonishment.) "Well, knight, please 



94 NATHAN THE WISH. 

tell us where you have been so long. — Dare I 
ask you where you are at present ? 

Temp. I am — perhaps where I ought not to 
be.— 

Eech. Where you have been ? — And where 
perhaps you ought not to have been ? That is 
not good. 

Temp. Upon — upon — what is the name of the 
mount ? upon Sinai. 

Rech. Upon Sinai — 0, beautiful ! Now I 
can finally learn whether it is true 

Temp. What ? What ? Whether it is true, 
that there is still to be seen the place where 
Moses stood before Grod, when 

Rech. Well, I do not mean that. Because 
he was standing before God, wherever he stood. 
I became fully acquainted with that. I like 
only to hear whether it is true, that it is by far 
not so troublesome to ascend than to descend 
this mountain ? For look here ! all the moun- 
tains I have ever ascended, it was just to the 
contrary. Well knight ? — What ? You turn 
away from me ? You will not look at me ? 



NATHAN THE WISE, 95> 

Temp. Because I will the better hear you. 

Rech, Because you will not let me know, 
that you smile at my simplicity, not to ask a 
more important question about the holiest 
mountain than that ? Is it not so ? 

Temp. I must now look again in your eyes. 
— What ? Now, you cast them down ? JSTow 
you chuckle ? How I wish to read still in 
features, doubtful features, all that I hear so 
plainly, which you are distinctly telling me — 
or rather keep hidden from me ? — Oh, Recha ! 
Recha ! How true is that which he said : " But 
know her first." 

Rech. Who told you that ? of whom ? 

Temp. But know her first, your father told 
me this about you. 

Daja. Did not I too ? Did not I also ? 

Temp. But where is he ? Where is your 
father ? Is he still at the Sultan's ? 

Rech. Undoubtedly ! 

Temp. Yet, still there ? — what a forgetful 



36 NATHAN THE WISE. 

man I am ! No, no. He can hardly be there 
now. He surely awaits me down there near 
the cloister. Thus we agreed upon, I guess. 
Excuse ! I am going, I call him 

Daja. That is my business. Stay here, 
Knight, stay. I will bring him immediately. 

Temp. Not so, not so ! He is looking for 
me and not for you. And besides, he might 

Who knows ? . . . . might 

be brought by the Sultan you 

do not know the Sultan ! He 

might be brought into a scrape. Believe me, 
there is danger, if I do not go. 



Eech. Danger ? What danger 



? 



Temp. Danger to me, to you, to him, if I do 
not depart quickly. (Exit.) 



Scene III. — Recha and Daja. 

Eech. Daja, what is that ? — So quick ? — 
what has befallen him ? What shocked him ? 
What has driven him ? 



NATHAN THE WISE. 97 

Daja. Let it alone ! I guess it is not a bad 

sign. 

Eech. Sign ? and of what ? 

Daja. That something is going on within. 
It is boiling and shall not overboil. Let him 
alone ! Now is your turn. 

Rech. What does that mean ? You become 
to me as inconceivable as he is. 

Daja. All anxiety he gave you, you can 
very soon retaliate on him. But do not be too 
severe and not too revengeful. 

Rech. You may know|best about what you 
are speaking. 

Daja. And are you quite composed again ? 

Rech. I am, indeed, I am 

Daja. Confess at least, that you are rejoicing 
in his uneasiness, and you are indebted to it 
for your tranquility. 

Rech. I am not aware fe of it at all ! I can 
merely confess that it astonishes me, how such 
a tranquility could suddenly follow after such 

7 



98 NATHAN THE WISE. 

a storm in my breast. His look, his conversa- 
tion and manners have me 

Daja. Fully satisfied ? * 

Rech. Satisfied, I do not mean to say this ; 
no — far from that. 

Daja. Appeased merely the voracious ap- 
petite. 

Rech. Well, yes, if you like it so. 

Daja. I do not, indeed. 

Rech. He will always remain to me as dear 
and dearer still than my life, although my pulse 
does not change, and my heart beats not quick- 
er and stronger any more at mere mentioning 
of his name. What do I blab? Come, dear 
Daja, let us go again to the window which faces 
the palm-trees. 

Daja. Your insatiable appetite is not yet 
appeased. 

Rech. Now I shall see again the palm- 
trees, and not only him beneath them. 

Daja. This chill is now the beginning of a 
new fever. 



NATHAN THE WISE. 99 

Eech. What chill ? I am not cold. I see 
certainly not with less pleasure that which I 
see with ease. 



Scene IY. — Saladin and Sittah. 
Scene. — Presence chamber in the palace of Saladin, 

Sal. (when entering speaks to some one 
without.) Bring the Jew hither, when he 
comes. It seems that he does not hurry him- 
self. 

Sit. He was probably not at hand, could 
not be found forthwith. 

Sal. Sister ! Sister ! 

Sit. You behave as if a battle were immi- 
nent. 

Sal. And to fight there with arms which 
to handle I have never been drilled. I shall 
simulate, shall give orders, shall lay snares, 
shall lead on slippery ice. When could I do 
that? Where did I learn that? And oh. for 
what purpose shall all this be done ? For what ? 
To fish for money ! money ! And for the sake 



100 NATHAN THE WISE. 

of money shall I extort by frightening money 
from a Jew ? Money ! To such petty artifices 
shall I finally resort to procure me the smallest 
of all triflings ? 

Sit. Every trifle, too much despised, re- 
venges itself, dear brother. 

Sal. Alas, it is true ! And if now this Jew 
is a good and intelligent man as the Dervise- 
once described him to you ? 

Sit. Oh, well then ! There is not much 
trouble ! The snare is only laid for the avarici- 
ous, anxious and timorous Jew, but not for the 
good, not for the wise man. He is already 
ours without a snare. The pleasure to hear T 
how such a man would excuse himself, with 
what force he either boldly breaks short the 
cords, or with what skillful caution he will 
glide by the trap, this pleasure you will get to 
boot. 

Sal. Well, that is true. Certainly, I am 
glad of it. 

Sit. Thus nothing can embarrass you further. 
Because is he only one of the mass of the peo- 
ple, is he merely a Jew like any Jew. Will 



NATHAN THE WISE. 101 

you be ashamed at appearing to him as he thinks 
all men to be? Indeed! He who shows him- 
self better, appears to him as a fool, a cox- 
comb. 

Sal. Must I therefore act badly, that the 
wicked shall not think bad of me ? 

Sit. Surely ! If you call bad acting when 
one uses everything according to its quality. 

Sal. What was ever devised by a woman's 
head that it does not know to palliate ! 

Sit. To palliace ! 

Sal. I fear the fine pointed thing will break 
in my clumsy hand. Such an affair must be 
carried out, as it was contrived, with all crafti- 
ness and dexterity. Be it so, well and good ! I 
am dancing as I can. And I would, I could 
rather worse than better. 

Sit. Do not place too little confidence in 
yourself. I make myself responsible for you ! 
If you only will, — Men of your rank like 
always to persuade us, that they raised them- 
selves very much only by their sword. The 
lion is certainly ashamed when hunting with a 
fox, but only of the fox, not of the artifice. 



102 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Sal. And the women like to bring down 
the men to their own level ! Gro ! go ! I think 
I know my lesson ! 

Sit. What ? Shall I go ? 

Sal. You do not like to stay ? 

Sit. If not to stay to be in 

your sight ; yet there in the adjoining apart- 
ment. 

Sal. To listen there ? Even not that, if I 
shall stand firmly. — Away ! Go hence ! The 
curtain rustles. He is coming ! but do not 
stay there ! I will look to it. (While she- 
leaves by one door ; Nathan is entering by 
another, and Saladin seats himself.) 



Scene V. — Saladan and Nathan. 

Sal. Come nearer Jew ! nearer ! — Ap- 
proach still nearer ! Be without fear ! 

Nat. In that be your enemies ! 

Sal. You call yourself Nathan ? 

Nat. Yes. 



NATHAN THE WISE. 103 

Sal. The wise Nathan ? 

Nat. No. 

Sal. Well ! You may not call yourself so, 
but the people do. 

Nat. May be the people ! 

Sal. Do you think, that I would regard the 
people's voice disdainfully ? I wished long 
ago to get acquainted with the man whom they 
call the wise. 

Nat. And if they call him so out of mock- 
ery ? If the people understand by wise noth- 
ing else but smart, and consider only smart who 
has skill in seeking his own benefit ? 

Sal. Do you mean his real benefit? 

Nat. Well, the most selfisb were then the 
smartest. And certainly wise and smart were 
one and the same. 

Sal. I hear you prove that, which you try 
to contradict. The real interests of man which 
the people do not know, are known to you. 
You endeavored at least to know them, you re- 



104 NATHAN THE WISE. 

fleeted on them, this alone makes one a wise 
man. 

Nat. Every one thinks himself to be so. 

Sal. Well ! Enough now of modesty ! Be- 
cause it is disgusting at hearing it always when 
we expect plain reason. (Starts up.) Let us 
come to the subject ! But, but be honest Jew, 
honest ! 

Nat. Sultan, I will surely serve you so, 
that I shall remain worthy of having your fur- 
ther custom ! 

Sal. Serve ? How ? 

Nat. You shall have the best of all ; you 
shall have it at the lowest rate. 

Sal. What are you talking about ? Surely 
not about your goods ? — You can carry on a 
chaffering trade with my sister. (That for the 
eavesdropper !) — I have nothing to do with the 
merchant. 

Nat. Then you wish undoubtedly to be in- 
formed, what I perceived on my way about the 
enemy who is stirring again ? If I shall openly 



NATHAN THE WISE. 105 

Sal. Neither did I steer with you for that. 
I know already as much as I need. — In fine. — 

Nat. Command, Sultan ! 

Sal. I wish your information about quite 
another thing, about quite another. As you 
are now so wise, tell me what belief and what 
law do you consider the most reasonable ? 

Nat. Sultan, I am a Jew. 

Sal. And I am a Mussulman. The Christian 
is between us. But of these three religions can 
only one be true. A man like you does not 
stop there where he was hurled by chance of 
birth, or if he remains he does it from convic- 
tion, arguments and choice of the better. Well ! 
tell me now your opinion. Let me hear your ar- 
guments, having not the time to enlighten myself 
upon them. Let me know your choice, of 
course in a confidential way, which was prompt- 
ed by those reasons, that I make it mine. 
How ? You are startled ? You measure me 
attentively ? It may be, that I am the first 
Sultan who has such a whim which as it seems 
to me, is not unworthy of a Sultan altogether. 
Is it not so ? Speak, speak ! Or do you want 



106 NATHAN THE WISE. 

a moment for consideration ? Well ! you shall 
have it. (Whether she is listening I will watch 
her, I will hear whether I acted right. — ) Think 
upon it ! Consider it quickly ! I will be back 
immediately. (He goes into the adjoining 
room where Sittah repaired to.) 



Scene VI. — Nathan alone. 

Nat. Hm ! Hm ! — It is strange ! — How will 
it fare with me ? — What is the Sultan's inten- 
tion ? I was prepared for money, and he asks 
for truth, for truth ! And he wants it in ready 
cash and shining as if truth were a coin. Yes r 
if it were a very ancient coin that was weighed, 
this may be done very well, but such new coin- 
age that a die stamps only its value and may 
be counted upon the table, that she is surely 
not. Can truth be taken into the head like one 
takes money by a promiscuous sweep and pock- 
ets it? Who is then here the Jew ? I or he ? 
But how? Should he ask the truth not in 
truth ? — Indeed, the suspicion that he uses the 
truth only for a trap is too small ! Too small ? 
What is for the big man too small ? Certainly I 



.• NATHAN THE WISE. 10 F 

Thus he speaks uncermoniously. "When one 
comes as a friend, he knocks at the door and 
then listens. I must move cautiously ! And how ! 
how is that ? To be an old fashioned Jew that 
will not do ! Much less not to be a Je w at all ; 
for if not a Jew, he might ask me why are you 
not a Mussulman ? That was it ! This can 
save me ! We do not feed only children with 
a fine story. He is coming : well, let him. 
come. 



Scene VII. — Saladin and Nathan. 

Sal. (Here is the field now clear !) I do not 
return too soon for you ? You are done with 
your consideration. — Well, speak then ! Not a 
soul hears us ! 

Nat. I would like the whole world may hear 



Sal. So sure is Nathan of his cause ? Ah r 
that I call a wise man ! To conceal never the- 
truth ! To set everything on stake for it I 
Body and soul !. Wealth and life ! 

Nat. Yes ! Yes ! when necessary and use- 
ful. 



108 NATHAN THE WISE. * 

Sal. From this time I may hope to bear 
justly one of my title's reformer of the world 
and of the law. 

Nat. Indeed ! a beautiful title ! But, Sul- 
tan, before I unbosom myself to you, will you 
allow me to tell you a little story ? — 

Sal. Why not? I was always a lover of 
stories well told. 

Nat. Yes, to tell a story well that is not my 
affair. 

Sal. Are you again so proudly modest ? — Go 
on ! relate ! relate ! 

Nat. In remote antiquity there lived a man 
in the east who was in possession of a ring of 
inestimable value that he had received from a 
beloved hand. Its stone was an opal that 
sparkled with a hundred beautiful colors, and 
had the mysterious power of rendering him 
agreeable to God and man, whosoever had 
worn it with such a confidence. What is won- 
derful about it that therefore the eastern man 
never took off the ring from 'his finger and 
made the arrangement of preserving it forever 
in his family ? He did it in this way. He gave 



NATHAN THE WISE. 109 

the ring to the most beloved one among his 
sons, and established the rule, that he shall 
bequeath the ring again to such a one among 
his sons whom he liked best and this most be- 
loved, without regard to his birth-time, and 
only on account of the possession of the ring 
shall ever become the bead and the prince of 
the family. — Understand me, Sultan. 

Sal. I understand you. Go on ! 

Nat. This ring was then inherited from son 
to son until finally to one who had three sons 
who were equally obedient to him and therefore 
could not forbear loving all three in like man- 
ner. But from time to time soon this one, soon 
that one and soon the third was considered by 
him to be worthy of the ring when every one 
was alone with him, and the other two did not 
participate in the overflowing love of his heart. 
He had also the pardonable weakness to prom- 
ise it to each of them. So it went on for a 
long time. But when he was on the eve of 
death, the good father found himself in a great 
perplexity. It grieves him to offend two of his 
sons relying upon his word. — What is to be 
done ? — He sends secretly for an artisan and 



110 NATHAN THE WISE. 

ordered him to make two rings by imitating his 
ring as a model, and told him expressly to 
spare neither expenses nor trouble to make 
them like his ring, precisely like that. The 
artisan succeeded in his work. When he 
brought the rings to him, even the father him- 
self could not distinguish his pattern from 
others. Cheerful and happy he sends for each 
one of his sons separately gave each one his 
blessing — and his ring — and died. — Do you 
listen Sultan? 

Sal. (who was confounded turned away from 
him.) I hear, I hear ! Finish soon your story. 
—Will you? 

Nat. I am done ; for all which follows now, 
that is a matter of course. — The father was 
scarcely dead, and each came with his ring and 
wanted to be the prince of the family. They 
investigated, quarreled and appealed to law. 
In vain ! the genuine ring could not be proved ; 
— (After a pause during which he was waiting 
for the Sultan's answer.) exactly, as the right 
faith is not demonstrable to us at present. 

Sal. How ? Shall this be an answer to my 
question ? 



NATHAN THE WISE. Ill 

Nat. It shall only serve me for an excuse if 
I do not venture to discern the rings which the 
father had expressly ordered to be made so 
similar, that they should not be distinguished. 

Sal. The rings ! — do not play with me ! — 
I should think, that the religions I have men- 
tioned are to be recognized apart. Even so far 
as concerning clothes, meat and drink ! 

Nat. But not in regard to their arguments. 
Because are not all based on history ? Writ- 
ten or handed down orally? — And must not 
history be believed on the faith of another ? 
— Not ? — Now over which will we throw the 
least doubt ? Surely over that of our fathers, 
whose blood we are ? Who gave us from our 
infancy proofs of their attachment? Who 
never deceived us save when deceiving was 
more wholesome to us ? — How can VL believe 
less my father, than you do yours ? Or vice 
versa. Can I ask of you to give your an- 
cestors the lie in order not to contradict mine? 
Or reversed. The same may also be said of 
the Christians. Is it not so ? 

Sal. (By the everlasting ! the man is right. I 
must remain silent.) 



112 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Nat. Let us return to the rings. As I have 
already said, the sons sued each other, and 
each swore to it before the Judge, that he had 
the ring directly from his father's hand — as it 
was true after having had his promise long 
before to enjoy at one time the privilege of the 
ring. — This was not less true! — The father, 
each one solemnly declared, could not have 
proved false to him ; and instead of allowing 
to conceive any suspicion of such a beloved 
father, he will rather accuse his brothers of foul 
play although he was always disposed to think 
the best of them ; and he will soon try to find 
out the traitors and take revenge on them. 

Sal. Well, and the Judge? Hike to know, 
what you let the Judge say about it. Speak ! 

Nat. The Judge said : If you do not bring 
your father hither immediately I shall dismiss 
you from my tribunal. Do you think, that I am 
here to solve enigmas ? Or do you wait until 
the genuine ring will open its mouth ? But, 
hold ! I understand that the genuine ring pos- 
sesses the wonderful power to render favorite, 
agreeable to God and men. This must decide ! 
Because the counterfeit rings could not produce 



NATHAN THE WISH. 113 

that. — Now who of you three is loved the best 
by two? — Go on, tell me? You are silent? 
They have only a retrocative power and no 
effect outwards. Every one loves himself the 
most. 0, all three of you are deceived deceiv- 
ers ! None of your three rings are genuine. 
The real one is probably lost. To conceal and 
reimburse the loss, the father ordered that three 
be made instead of one. 

Sal. Excellent! Excellent! 

Nat. And thus the Judge continued, if you 
do not want my advice instead of my judg- 
ment, go then ! — But my advice is this : You 
shall take the affair just as it is! Has each of 
you received his ring from his father, then shall 
every one of you firmly believe that his ring is 
genuine. It is possible, that the father did not 
like to suffer in his house the tyranny of the ring 
any longer ! And certainly he loved you all 
three alike ; because he did not want to op- 
press two in order to favor the cause of one. 
Well ! Strive to equal him in his impartial 
love uncorrupted by prejudice ! Try to outdo 
each other in bringing to light the power of 
the stone in his ring. Assist this power with 



114 NATHAN THE WISE. 

gentleness, hearty sociableness, beneficence and 
with fervent devotion to God. And if the pow- 
ers of the stones are visible among the children 
of your children's children, I summon you in a 
thousand, thousand years to appear again be- 
fore this chair. A wiser man than I will be 
seated on this chair, and speak. Go ! — Thus 
said the modest judge. 

Sal. God! God! 

Nat. If you think yourself to be that prom- 
ised, wiser man .... 

Sal. (who is rushing upon him seizes his 
hand and does not relinquish his hold until the 
end.) I, dust? I, nothing? 0, God ! 

Mat. What is the matter with you ? 

Sal. Nathan ! Dear Nathan ! The thous- 
ands of years of your judge are not over yet. 
The Judge's high seat is not mine. — Go ! — Go ! 
— But be my friend. 

Nat. And has Saladin nothing to tell me be- 
sides that ? 

Sal. Nothing. 



NATHAN THE WISE. 115 

Nat. Nothing? 

Sal. Nothing at all.— And why ? 

Nat. I would wish I had also an opportunity 
of making a request to you. 

Sal. Needs a supplication an opportunity ? — 
Speak ! 

Nat. I returned from a distant voyage on 
which I have collected some outstanding debts. 
I have now too much cash on hand. Times be- 
gin to look gloomy again and I do not know 
where I can invest it safely. — I thought then, 
whether you could use some perhaps ; because 
as the approaching war demands always more 
money. 

Sal. (staring at his eyes) Nathan ! I will 
not ask you whether Al Han has seen you al- 
ready, nor shall I investigate whether any sus- 
picion induces you to make me spontaneously 
such an offer 

Nat. Suspicion ? 

Sal. I deserve it. — Excuse me ! — For what 
boots it ? I must confess to you, that I was 
about 



116 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Nat. Not to look for the same in me, X 
hope? 

Sal. Certainly ! 

Nat. Thus we are both relieved ! But the 
cause, that I can not send you all my money in 
cash is the young Templar. You know him 
very well. I have first to pay to him a heavy 
sum. 

Sal. Templar ? Would you also assist with 
your money my worst enemies ? 

Nat. I speak but of him whose life you have- 
spared 

Sal. Oh, of what are you reminding me ! I 
have forgotten this young man altogether I 
You know him ? Where is he ? 

Nat. How ? Do you not know how much I 
have shared in the grace which you have shown 
to him ? He, in spite of the danger to lose his 
regained life saved my daughter from a house 
on fire. 

Sal. He? Has he done that ?— Ho ! He 
had such looks ! Indeed ! my brother, whom 



NATHAN THE WISE. 117 

lie resembles very much would have done the 
same. Is he here yet? bring him here. I 
have told my sister so much of her brother 
whom she did not know, that I must let her 
also see his likeness. Go, bring him ! How 
out of one good action, although born by pas- 
sion, flow nevertheless so many noble deeds ! 
Oo, bring him ! 

Nat. (while dropping Saladin's hand,) In 
a moment ! And in regard to the other affair 
does it remain so ? (Exit.) 

Sal Oh, that I did not allow my sister to 
listen ! — To her ! to her ! For how shall I 
relate now to her all this ? (Exit on another 
side.) 



Scene VIII. — Scenery — Under the palm-trees near to the 
cloister, where the Templar awaits Nathan. 

Temp, (walking up and down debating within 
himself until he broke out.) Here the weary 
victim keeps itself quiet. — Very well ! I will 
not, will not know more closely what is going 
on within myself, will not get beforehand any 



138 NATHAN THE WISE. 

scent of that which will happen. Enough of 
it ! I fled in vain ! And I could do nothing 
else but to fly ! Now come what may ! To 
evade the blow was impossible ; because it was 
given too quickly and then I hesitated long 
enough to be exposed to it. To see her whom 
to see I had but so little longing desire for, to 
see her, is a resolution never to lose sight of her 
again. — What resolution ? resolution is pur- 
pose, action, and I, I was unresisting I permitted 
that. To see her and the feeling to be caught 
by her and woven into her life was one. Ee- 
mains one. To live separated from her is in- 
comprehensible to me altogether ; would be my 
death and wheresoever we may be after death 
even there it were my death. If that is love,. 
then the templar, fell in love, indeed ! The 
Christian loves the Jewish girl. — Hm ! What 
of that ? I have already cast off many of my 
prejudices in the holy land, and therefore it is 
holy to me forever ! What does the order 
require of me ? I, the Templar, I am dead, and 
I have been so to it from the moment, that I 
was made Saladin's prisoner. The head, pre- 
sented to me by Saladin, were my old one ? — 
No ! It is a new one, that knows nothing of" 



NATHAN THE WISH. 119 

all that was talked into the other and was 
fastened upon it, and is much better and more 
adapted for the paternal heaven. Yes, I am 
sensible of it ; for I begin to think with it just 
now exactly as my father must have thought, 
when here, in case they did not tell me stories 
about him. Stories ? but very credible which 
never appeared to me to be more so than now, 
when I run the risk to stumble there where he 
fell. He fell? I will rather fall with men 
than stand with children. — His example secures 
me his approbation. And whose applause con- 
cerns me besides ? Nathan's ? 0, I will be 
much less wanting of his encouragement that 
is more than approval. — What a Jew ! — And 
who will only appear but a Jew ! There he is 
coming ; coming in haste glowing with joy. 
Who came ever otherwise from Saladin ! Ho, 
ho there, Nathan ! 



Scene IX. — Nathan and Templar. 

Nat. How ? Is it you ? 

Temp. You stayed very long at the Sultan's 
palace. 



120 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Nat. Well, not too long, I was detained 
too long while going there. indeed, Curd ! 
The man outshines his fame. His fame is but 
his shadow. But before all things I will hasten 
to tell you .... 

Temp. What ? 

Nat. He will see you, and wishes, that you 
shall come immediately to him. Accompany 
me home where I have to order something for 
him, and then we will go together. 

Temp. I will not enter your house again 
before 

Nat. Well you have been already there ? 
You have seen her I hope ? Well ! Tell me, 
how do you like Kecha ? 

Temp. Above all expression ! But, to see 
her again — that I will never. Never ! Never ! 
Except you will promise me on the spot, that I 
can ever — ever see her. 

Nat. How do you want, that I shall under- 
stand that? 

Temp, (after a short pause embracing him 
suddenly.) My father ! 



NATHAN THE WISE. 121 

Nat. Young man ! 

Temp, (leaving him even so suddenly.) Not 
son ? — I entreat you, Nathan ! — 

Nat. My dear young man ! 

Temp. Not son ? I entreat you, Nathan ! I 
conjure you by the first bonds of nature ! Do 
not prefer above them the latter fetters ! Be 
satisfied to be a man ! Repulse me not ! 

Nat. Dear, dear friend ! 

Temp. And son ? Not son ? Even then 
not, if gratitude has formed already a passage 
for love to your daughter's heart ? Even then 
not, when both are only waiting for your 'sign 
to melt their feelings into one? You are 
silent ? 

Nat. You take me by surprise young knight. 

Temp. I surprise you? — surprise you, Na- 
than, with your own thoughts ? You do not 
acknowledge them, however, — when expressed 
with my mouth ? I surprise you ? 

Nat. Before I know, what a StaufTen has 
been your father ! 



122 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Temp. What do you say, Nathan ? what ? 
At such a moment you feel nothing but curi- 
osity ? 

Nat. For look here ! For once I have known 
a Stauffen whose name was Conrad. 

Temp. Well if my father had the same 
name ? 

Nat. Indeed ! 

Temp. I am called after my father": Curd 
is Conrad. 

Nat. Then was my Conrad not ? your father ; 
because my Conrad was what you are, a tem- 
plar, 'was never married. 

Temp. 0, therefore ! 

Nat. How ? 

Temp. 0, therefore he could nevertheless 
have been my father. 

Nat. You are joking. 

Temp. You take it certainly too strictly ! 
What then ? Such a thing as a bastard ! Such 
a stroke must be noticed. — But excuse me of my 



NATHAN THE WISH: 123 

proof of nobility, and I will excuse yours in 
return, It is not that I put your pedigree in 
the slightest doubt. Grod forbid ! You may 
trace it back page after page to the days of 
Abraham. From then farther up I know it 
myself and I will swear to it. 

Nat. You become sarcastic. — But have I 
deserved it ? — Have I refused to you already 
anything ? I will not use your word particularly- 
in this moment. — Nothing else ? 

Temp. Sure ? — Nothing else? 0, I beg par- 
don. . . . . . 

Nat. Well, come, come on ! 

Temp. Whither ? No ! To your house ? — 
Not that ! Not that ! It burns there !— I will 
wait here till you come. Go ! If I shall see 
her again, I shall see her frequently enough, and 
if not, I have seen her already too much. 

Nat. I will hasten as much as possible. 



Scene X. — Templar and soon after Daja. 

Temp. It is more than enough already ! The- 



124 NATHAN THE WISH. 

drains of man comprehend a great deal, but 
they are nevertheless, sometimes suddenly full, 
full of a trifle. It will avail nothing be they 
full of whatever it may. — But only patience ! 
The soul presses soon together the puffed up 
stuff and getting space, light and order return 
again. Do I love for the first time ? Or was 
it not love, that I know as such ? Is love 
merely that which I feel now ? . . . . 

Daja. (having approached by stealth from 
the side.) Knight ! Knight ! 

Temp. Who is calling ? — Ho, Daja, you ? 

Daja. 1 just passed by him unheeded. But 
he can see us yet where you are standing. 
Therefore come nearer to me, behind this tree. 

Temp. What is the matter ? So mysteriously ? 
What is it ? 

Daja. To be sure ! It concerns a double 
mystery which brought me to you. I know 
only the one and you the other. — How would 
it be, if we make an exchange ? Confide to me 
yours, and I put you in trust with mine. 

Temp. With pleasure ! — If I would first only 



NATHAN THE WISE. 125 

know that which you hold for my secret. But 
this will appear by yours. Begin now. 

Daja. Well, think only ! No! dear knight I 
First you and I will then follow. — Because be 
assured you will not derive any benefit from my 
secret if I knew not first yours. Quick ! For 
if I shall pump out your secret, you have then 
nothing committed to me. My secret remains 
mine and you, are rid of yours. — But poor 
knight ! — That you men think only to conceal 
such a mystery from us women ! 

Temp. Which to have it we often do not 
know ourselves. 

Daja. This may be. Therefore I must be 
so friendly to make you first acquainted with 
it. Tell me ! What meant it, that you sud- 
denly took French leave ? That you left and 
neglected us ? That you did not return with 
Nathan ? Did Recha touch your heart so little ? 
How ? Or even so much ? — So much ! So 
much ! make me acquainted with the fluttering 
of the poor bird sticking to the rod ! In short 
confess it to me at once, that yon love her, love 
her frantically and I will tell you something. . . 



126 NATHAN THE WISH. 

Temp. Frantically? Truly you are a judge 
of it. 

Daja. Acknowledge your love and I will 
dispense you from doing it frantically. 

Temp. Because that is a matter of course ? — 
A templar loving a Jewess ! 

Daja. It seems indeed ! to have a very little 
meaning. But sometimes there is more sense in 
a thing than we presume, and that is not a 
thing unheard of, that the Saviour leads us to 
him in ways where the wise would have, not 
Tery likely tread by himself. 

Temp. So solemn? (and if I use instead of 
the expression Saviour, divine Providence, 
is she not right ?) You make me more inquisi- 
tive than I ever was accustomed to be. 

Daja. this is the land of wonders ! 

Temp. (Well ! — of the wonderful ! Can it 
be otherwise ? The whole world is crowding 
here. — ) Dear Daja, take for granted whatever 
you require of me that I love her, that I do not 
comprehend how I shall live without her, 
that 



NATHAN THE WISE. 127 

Daja. Are you sure of it ? Sure ? Knight, 
swear then to me to make her yours, to save her 
in this as well as in the world to come. 

Temp. And how? — How can I? — Can I 
swear to that which is not in my power ? 

Daja. It is in your power. By a single 
word I put it in your power. 

Temp. That even the father shall not object ? 

Daja. Eh, what father ! father ! The father 
must then consent to it. 

Temp. Must, Daja ? — He has not yet fallen 
into the hands of robbers. — He must not be 
forced. 

Daja. Well, he must agree, must willingly 
consent to it after all. 

Temp. Must ? And willingly !— But Daja, if 
I tell you now, that I tried myself already to 
touch this chord ? 

Daja. What ? And he did not join in it ? 

Temp. He joined in a discordant sound which 
offended me. 



128 NATHAN THE WISH. 

Daja. What do you say ? — How ? You 
have merely shown him a shadow of a wish for 
Eecha, and he did not jump for joy? Drew 
back coldly ? Started difficulties ? 

Temp. It was nearly so. 

'Daja. I will not consider it a moment longer. 
(Pause.) 

Temp. And yet you hesitate ? 

Daja. Independently of that he is a very 
good man ! — I am myself much indebted to 
him ! Oh that he will not listen at all ! Grod 
knows that my heart is bleeding thus to force 
him. 

Temp. I entreat you, Daja, bring me out of 
this uncertainty. But are you yourself uncer- 
tain yet whether that which is your design may 
be called good or bad, disgraceful or laudable r 
— hush. I will forget, that you have any- 
thing to keep secret. 

Daja. This spurs on instead of keeping back. 
Well, know then ! Eecha is no Jewess, she is 
— she is a Christian. 

Temp, (coldly.) So ? I wish you joy ! Was 



NATHAN THE WISH. 129 

this so difficult to keep it. Let not the pains 
of labor frighten you. Continue zealously to 
people heaven, if you cannot populate the 
earth. 

Daja. How, knight € ? Is my information 
deserving such derision ? You a templar, are 
not rejoiced any more that Eecha being a Chris- 
tian ? That you love a Christian ? 

Temp. Especially as she is of your own 
making. 

Daja. you understand it in this way. I 
allow that ! No ! I will see him who will 
convert her ! It is lucky for her that she was 
that long ago which to become now she has 
been corrupted. 

Temp. Speak your mind freely, or — go ! 

Daja. She is a Christian child, born of 
Christian parents, is baptized 

Temp, (hasty.) And Nathan ? 

Daja. Is not her father. 

Temp. Nathan not her father ? Do you 
know what you say ? 



130 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Daja. The truth which made me shed very 
often bloody tears. No, he is not her 
father 

Temp. And he brought her up merely as his 
daughter ? He educated a Christian child as a 
Jewess ? 

Daja. Most assuredly ! 

Temp. She does not know by what parents 
she was born ? She never learned it of him, 
that she was born a Christian and not a Jewess? 

Daja. Never ! 

Temp. He did not only rear up the child in 
such a delusion, but let the girl still remain in 
this error ? 

Daja. Alas ! 

Temp. Nathan — How ? — The wise good Na- 
than allowed himself to forge in such a manner 
the voice of nature ? — To misguide so the emo- 
tions of the heart which left to themselves 
would take quite other ways ? 

Daja. You have certainly intrusted some- 
thing of importance to me, which can have con- 



NATHAN THE WISE. 131 

sequences that confound me, on which I do 
not know at present, what I shall do. — There- 
fore give me time. — Therefore go ! He will 
pass by here again. He might surprise us. 
Go ! 

Daja. I would be lost ! 

Temp. I am not fit now to see him at all. 
If you meet him, tell him only, that we will 
meet each other at the Sultan's. 

Daja. But do not betray yourself. — This 
shall give a last pressure to the thing and shall 
remove all your scruples concerning Recha! 
But when you take her then to Europe, will 
you not leave me behind ? 

Temp. We will see ! Gro now, go 1 



132 NATHAN THE WISE. 



ACT IV. 



Scene I. — Scenery — On the crosswalk of the cloister. Lay 
Brother, and soon after the Templar. 

Lay B. Yes, yes ! The patriarch is right I 
I did not succeed much in all the affairs with 
which he commissioned me. — Why does he 
charge me with such things ? I do not want 
to be his mouthpiece. I will not persuade, will 
not thrust my little nose in everything, will not 
have my little hand in all. Did I quit the 
world on account of myself, in order to tangle 
myself deeply in it for others ? 

Temp, (coming up to him hastily.) Dear 
brother ! There you are. I have sought you a 
great while. 

LatB. Me, sir? 

Temp. Do you not know me any more ? 



NATHAN THE WISE. 133 

Lay B. Yet, yet! I only thought, that I 
would never see you again in my whole life. I 
hoped to (rod for it The good Grod knows, 
how most reluctantly I did my errand to the 
knight which I was obliged to do. Sir ! He 
knows, whether I wished to be listened to 
favorably by you ; knows how I was rejoiced 
in heart, that you rejected openly all that is not 
becoming a knight. Yet you are coming now ! 
It has still produced now its effects ! 

Temp. You know already why I am coming ? 
I hardly know it myself. 

Lay B. You have considered it now. You 
found out that the patriarch is not so very 
wrong after all, that by his offer may be gained 
honor and money, that an enemy is an enemy, 
even if he had been seven times our angel. 
You weighed it in your mind maturely, and 
you are coming and offer yourself again. — 0, 
Ood ! 

Temp. My dear pious man ! Be contented ! 
I did not come on that account, and I will not 
see the patriarch for that purpose. I think as 
yet on this point as I thought before, and I 



134 NATHAN THE WISE. 

would not for all the world lose the good opin- 
ion which an upright, pious and good man 
deigned to bestow upon rne. I come only to 
ask the advice of the patriarch about a certain, 
affair. 

Lay B. You will take advice of the patri- 
arch ? A Knight, shall ask a— jack-priest ? 
(Looking timidly around about.) 

Temp. Yes, — the affair is quite monkish. 

Lay B. Yet the hedge-priest is never asking- 
the knight, the affair may be ever so chivalrous. 

Temp. Because he has the privilege of acting 
wrong which one of our own rank does not envy 
him very much. Certainly, if I had to act only 
for myself and were merely accountable to 
myself to what need I your patriarch ? But 
certain affairs I would rather perform them 
bad according to the will of others, than good 
according to my own opinion. — Besides I. per- 
ceive it perfectly well, that religion is also a 
party affair and he who thinks himself even so 
impartial about it, is nevertheless, taking un- 
consciously the side of his own religion. This 



NATHAN TEE WISE. 135 

being always the case, it will therefore be 
right. 

Lay B. I am rather silent to that ; because I 
do not understand you correctly, sir. 

Temp. And yet ! (let me see, what object 
have I most in view, his authoritative sentence 
or his advice ? a plain or an elaborate counsel ?) 
I thank you brother, thank you for the hint 
you gave me.— Why patriarch ? Be you my 
patriarch ! I will rather ask the Christian in 
the patriarch than the patriarch in the Chris- 
tian. — The object is this 

Lay B. No further, sir ! no further ! What 
is the use of this ? Sir, you misjudge me. He 
who knows much has much sorrow. I devoted 
myself merely to one care. good ! Hear ! 
Look ! It is fortunate for me, that he is coming 
there himself. Wait here. He noticed you 
already. 



Scene II. — The Patriarch loith all his clerical pomp coming 
up the crossvjay, and the former. 

Temp. I would rather avoid him. — He is 



136 NATHAN THE WISE. 

not my man ! — A fat, red friendly prelate j 
And what pageantry ! 

Lay B. You ought to see him when he is 
betaking himself to the court. He is coming 
now merely from visiting a sick person. 

Temp. How must Saladin feel ashamed before 
him. 

Patriaech. (while approaching signs to the 
lay-brother to come to him.) Here ! This is 
surely the templar. What does he want ? 

Lay B. I do not know. 

Pat. (coming up to him ; while the lay 
brother and retenue withdraw.) Well, Knight ! 
I am very glad to see the brave young man ! — 
Indeed, he is still very young ! With Grod's 
help something can be made of him ! 

Temp. Eeverend sir, scarcely more than he is 
already, and more likely a little less. 

Pat. At all events I wish, that such a pious 
knight may long blossom and flourish for the 
honor or benefit of our beloved Christendom 
and the divine cause. He cannot fail of success, 



NATHAN THE WISE. 137 

if only the young bravery will follow the 
mature advice of old age ! How can I serve 
you, sir ? 

Temp. By the same, which my youth is want- 
ing, by an advice. 

Pat. With the greatest pleasure ! — The ad- 
vice, however, must be accepted. 

Temp. But not blindly ? 

Pat. Who says that ? Certainly shall nobody 
neglect to use his gift of God, the reason in the 
proper place. But is everywhere its proper 
place ? Oh, no ! For instance, if God grants 
us to make us acquainted by one of his angels, 
that is, by a servant of his word with a means 
of promoting and strengthening the welfare of 
the whole Christendom and benefit of the 
church in a peculiar manner who dare to inves- 
tigate then according to his reason the arbitrary 
will of Him, who created reason ? Who dare 
to scrutinize the eternal law of the glory of 
heaven by petty rules of a vain honor? But 
enough of that. Sir, about what is it, that 
you require an advice from me at present ? 



138 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Temp. Reverend father, supposing a Jew has 
an only child — be it a girl — that he reared up 
with the greatest care to everything which is 
laudable and good, loving her more than his 
life, and she is also attached to him with the 
most pious affection, would one of ours be 
secretly informed of it, that this girl is not the 
daughter of the Jew, that he picked her up 
somewhere, bought, stole her, — all you may 
ever imagine, when in childhood. It is further 
known, that the girl is a Christian child, and 
was baptized. The Jew educated her a Jewess, 
and wants her to remain merely as such and as 
his daughter. Say, Reverend father, what shall 
be done in this affair ? 

Pat. I shudder ! But, sir, tell me first 
whether such a case is a real fact or a hypothe- 
sis. That is to say, whether you composed a 
story or whether it has happened and it con- 
tinues to happen. 

Temp. I consider it all the same in order to 
learn the opinion of your reverence. 

Pat. The same ? There you see, sir, how 
the proud human reason is liable to be mistaken 



NATHAN THE WISE. 139 

in spiritual affairs. Nay ! If the related 
story is a witty play, it is not worth while to 
ponder it earnestly. Sir, concerning this I 
refer you to the theatre where such pro and 
con can be argued with great applause. But if 
you do not mock me with a theatrical tale, if 
this case be a real fact ; if this has happened 
even in our diocese in our beloved city of Je- 
rusalem ; yes, then — 

Temp. And what then ? 

Pat. Then a punishment must be quickly 
inflicted upon the Jew for such a crime such a 
vicious action as provided by the papal and im- 
perial law. 

Temp. So? 

Pat. And indeed! the laws just mentioned 
condemn any Jew who seduces a Christian to 
apo stacy, to the faggot, to the stake. 

Temp. So? 

'Pat. And the more so a Jew who is guilty 
of taking away by force a Christian child from 
the covenant of baptism ! Because is not vio- 
lence all which any man does to children ? To 



140 ' NATHAN THE WISE. 

which I have to add ! except that which the 
church may do to children. 

Temp. But if the Jew had not shown any 
mercy upon the child perhaps it would have 
perished in misery ? 

Fat. That is nothing ! The Jew must be 
burnt. It is much better, if the child were 
perished here in misery than being thus rescued 
to its eternal perdition. — Besides what right 
has the Jew to encroach upon God's office ? A 
person whom God will save, he can do it with- 
out him. 

Temp. And 1 should think that even in spite 
of him — he will save her soul. 

Pat. That is nothing. The Jew must be 
burnt. 

Temp. That grieves me to the heart ! Espe- 
cially as it is said, that he let the girl neither 
grow up in his faith nor in any other, but in- 
structed her in the knowledge of God not more 
and not less than it is reasonable to believe. 

Pat. That is nothing ! The Jew must be 
burnt Yes, on account of this 



NATHAN THE WISE. 141 

alone he deserved already to be burnt three 
times ! — What ? To let a child grow up with- 
out any faith ? — How ? Not to teach a child at 
all the great duty to believe ? This is too bad I 
Knight, I am surprised, you yourself .... 

Temp. Eeverend sir, as for the rest, please 
God, at confession. (He is about to go.) 

Pat. What ? Not to answer me, when called 
upon ? Not to give me the name of the Jew, 
the wicked wretch ? Not to bring him to me 
to this place ? 0, I know to rind easily a 
remedy for that ! I will go immediately to the 
Sultan. Saladin must protect us according to 
the capitulation which he confirmed by an 
oath ; he must defend all our rights and teach- 
ings, that we may ever count as belonging to 
our most holy religion. Thank God ! We 
have the original document We have it under 
his hand and seal. We ! — I give him easily to 
understand how dangerous it is for the empire 
to believe nothing. All civil bonds are dis- 
solved, broken, when men dare not believe. — - 
Away, away with such a mischievous act ! . . . 

Temp. It is a great pity, that I have not 



142 NATHAN THE WISH. 

much more leisure to enjoy your excellent 
sermon. I was called for by Saladin. 

Pat. Yes? — Well so — Indeed — then . . . 

Temp. If it pleases your reverence, I will 
prepare the Sultan ! 

Pat. O, oh ! I know, you found favor in 
the eyes of Saladin ! I entreat you to remem- 
ber me there to my advantage. I am merely 
driven by a zeal for God's cause. — And in 
doing too much, I do it for him. Please, sir, 
consider this ! — And is it not so knight ? The 
story of the Jew you have mentioned before us 
was but a problem ? — that is to say — 

Temp. A problem. (Exit.) 

P^t. (I must try, hovever, to sift it to the 
bottom. This is again a commission for Bona- 
fides.) Here, my son ! (He is speaking to the 
Lay brother when going out.) 



Scene III. — Scenery : — A room in the palace of Saladin 
where slaves are carrying in many bags being placed- together 
on the floor. Saladin and soon after Sittah. 

Sal. (coming up to it.) Indeed there is still 
no end ! — Is much of it remained back ? 



NATHAN THE WISE. 143 

A Slave. Nearly a half. 

Sal. Carry the rest then to Sittah. — And 
where does Al Han stay ? This here shall Al 
Han take with him. Or shall I rather send it to 
my father ? Here it is easily spent. — It is 
true, that one becomes finally hard-hearted. 
And now most assuredly a man shall have to 
try all his wits to squeeze much out of me. At 
least until the money from Egypt is received 
here, poverty may see how to get along. If 
the presents at the grave would only be con- 
tinued ! If the Christian pilgrims need not to 
leave empty handed ! If only 

Sit. What is that for? What is the good of 
the money at my house ? 

Take out of it the amount of your debt, and 
if anything is left lay it in store. 

Sit. Is Nathan not here yet with the tem- 
plar ? 

Sal. He is searching for him in every 
corner. 

Sit. Look, what I found here, while hand- 



144 NATHAUT THE WISE. 

ling my old jewelry (showing him a little pic- 
ture.) 

Sal. Ho ! my brother ! This is he ! This is 
he ! — Was he ! Was he ! Ah, ah ! brave 
dear boy, that I lost thee so early ! How 
much could I undertake with thee and on thy 
side ! — Sittah, let me have this picture 1 I know 
it already. He gave it to your older sister to 
his Lilla, when one morning she could not tear 
herself from him. It was the last time that he 
rode out. — Oh, I let him ride, and alone ! Oh, 
Lilla died with grief, and I forgave me never, 
that I let him ride all alone. — He never re- 
turned ! 

Sit. The poor brother ! 

Sal. Well, let that pass ! All of us wiil 
once remain away ! — Who knows it ? It is 
not death alone, that hinders a young man of 
his rank to attain his design. He has many 
more enemies, and the strongest sinks often 
like the weakest ! Be with him as it may ! I 
must compare his pictures with the features of 
the young templar. I must see how much my 
fancy deceived me. 



NATHAN THE WISE. 145 

Sit. I bring it on that account ; but give it 
to me. 0, give it ! I will tell you so much now, 
that a woman's eye understands it best. (Sala- 
din to an entering doorkeeper.) Who is 
there ? — the templar. — Let him come in ! 

Sit. In order not to disturb you, and not to 
confound him by my curiosity — (She seats 
herself on a sofa, and draws a veil over her 
face.) 

Sal. Well so, well ! And now the so and of 
his voice ! How will that be ! The sound of 
Assad's voice is sleeping in my soul ! 



Scene IV. — The Templar and Saladin. 

Temp. I your prisoner, Saladin .... 

Sal. My prisoner ? To whom I gave quar- 
ters would I not give him liberty too ? 

Temp. That, which behooves you to do is 
becoming me to hear first, and not to anticipate. 
But, Sultan, to give thanks, and to make espe- 
cial acknowledgment for my life, that does 
10 



146 NATHAN THE WISE. 

not harmonize with my order nor with my char- 
acter. It is wholly at your service. 

Sal. Bo not use it against me. To get a 
pair hands more I would not grudge my enemy 
but such a heart more I can hardly bear it. I 
am not deceived in you, brave young man! 
You are my very Assad in body and soul. 
Well ! I could ask you, where have you been 
all the time ? In what cave did you sleep ? In 
what Ginnistan and by what kindly power was 
this flower kept so fresh all the time ? Look 
here! I would like to remind you of that 
which we have accomplished together here and 
there. I would quarrel with you, that you 
have still concealed one thing from me suppres- 
sing one adventure. — Yes, I could all that, 
when I see only you and not also me. Now 
that may be ; yet of this pleasing revery is so 
much true, that in my Autumn an Assad shall 
flourish for me again. — Are you satisfied with 
that, Knight ? 

Temp. All that proceeds from you, be it 
whatever it may, has lain as a wish in my soul. 

Sal. Let us try that forthwith. Will you 
abide with me ? Will you be about my person ? 



NATHAN THE WISH. 147 

As Christian as Mussulman, it is one and the 
same to me. In a white cloak or in a Janmier- 
lonk, in a turban or beaver as you like it. It is 
:all the same to me ! I never wished for, that 
one and the same bark shall grow around every 
tree. 

Temp. Else you were hardly that which you 
are : the hero who would rather like to be God's 
gardener. 

Sal. Well then, if you do not think worse of 
me, we almost agree. 

Temp. Quite ! 

Sal. (offering to him his hand.) On your 
word? 

Temp. A man of his word ! You receive by 
that more than you could take from me. I am 
wholly yours ! 

Sal. Too much profit for one day ! too 
much ! — Did not he come with you ? 

Temp. Who? 

Sal. Nathan. 



148 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Temp, (frosty.) No. I came alone. 

Sal. What a deed accomplished by yout 
And what a wise luck, that such a deed turned 
out for the best of such a man ! 

Temp. Yes, yes ! 

Sal. So chilly ? No, young man ! If Grod 
wrought something good by us, we must not 
remain so cold ! And even out of modesty we 
shall not be willing to appear so. 

Temp. That everything in this world has so 
many sides ! — It cannot be imagined very often 
how they fit together ! 

Sal. Stick always to the best, and praise 
Grod ! Who knows how they fit together. But 
young man, if you should be so humorous, I 
have to observe caution in treating you. Alas I 
I am such a thing of many sides which might 
not always seem to fit very well. 

Temp. This grieves me! For suspicion is 
usually very little my fault. — 

Sal. Well, with whom are you displeased? 
It seemed to me with Nathan. How ? To 



NATHAN TEE WISE. 149 

•conceive a suspicion of Nathan ? You ? — 
Speak out ! Speak ! Come, give me the first 
proof of the confidence which you place in me. 

Temp. I have nothing against Nathan. I 
am vexed only at myself. 

Sal. And about what ? 

Temp. That I have dreamed a Jew could 
ever forget to be a Jew, that I dreamed this 
when in a waking state. 

Sal. Speak out this waking dream ! 

Temp. You know about the daughter of Na- 
than, Sultan. All that which I did for her I 
did it ; because I did it. Too proud to earn 
thanks where I did not sow them, I declined 
from day to day to see her again. The father 
was absent, he came back, heard of It, searched 
for me, he thanked me, and wished, that I may 
like his daughter, speaks of prospect, speaks of 
a delightful future. Now I let myself be gulled, 
came, saw and found, indeed a girl .... 
Oh, I feel ashamed Sultan ! 

Sal. You are ashamed that a Jewish girl 
made an impression on you ? Surely not ! 



150 NATHAN THE WISH. 

Temp. That my rash heart on account of the 
sweet talk of the father made so little resist- 
ance to that impression ! I poor wretch ! I 
jumped a second time into the fire. — For now I 
courted and was despised. — 

Sal. Despised ? 

Temp. The prudent father did not refuse her 
to me positively ; but must first make inquiries 
and consider it. Certainly ! Did not I do the 
same? Did not I first inquire and consider, 
when she was screaming in the house on fire ? — 
Indeed ! By God ! It is a very fine thing to- 
be so wise so prudent ! 

Sal. Well, well! Show some indulgence 
toward the old man ! How long shall his refu- 
sal last ? Would he ask, that you shall first be- 
come a Jew ? 

Temp. Who knows it ? 

Sal. Who knows it ? He who knows this 
Nathan much better. 

Temp. The superstition in which we are 
grown up even when perceived by us, does not 



NATHAN THE WISE. 151 

lose its influence on us. — Not all who are scof- 
fing at their chains are free. 

Sal. It is a very correct remark but Nathan 
indeed Nathan 

Temp. The worst of all superstitions is to 
consider his own for the most tolerable. 

Sal. It may be! But Nathan . . . . 

Temp. In whom alone the dim sighted hu- 
manity shall confide until it get used to a more 
brighter day of truth ; in whom alone . . . 

Sal. Well ! But Nathan ! This weakness 
fell not to Nathan's share. 

Temp. I thought so too ! If 

nevertheless this paragon of .all men would be 
such a mean Jew, that he tries to get some 
Christian children to educate them as Jews : — 
how then ? 

Sal. Who relates such a thing on him ? 

Temp. The girl herself by whom he succeeded 
to entice me and by the hope he was making 
me for her, he seemed as if he would like to 
pay me for that which I should not have done 
for her gratis. This very girl is — not his 



152 NATHAN THE WISE. 

daughter. It is a Christian child thrown 
about. 

Sal. And would nevertheless not give her 
to ypu ? 

Temp, (passionately.) He may want or not ! 
He is detected. The tolerant talker is now 
detected. I know how to manage it, that some 
hounds will be after this Jewish wolf assuming 
philosophically a sheepskin and they shall 
worry him. 

Sal. (earnestly.) Keep yourself quiet Chris- 
tian ! 

Temp. What ? Keep quiet Christian ! — If a 
Jew and Mussulman persist in being a Jew and 
Mussulman, shall the Christian alone not be 
allowed to act the part of a Christian ! . 

Sal. (still more earnestly.) Be tranquil 
Christian ! 

Temp, (composed.) I feel the whole burden of 
reproach which Saladin compressed in the two 
syllables Christian ! I would like to know 
how Assad — Assad had conducted himself, were 
he in my place ? 



NATHAN THE WISE. 153 

Sal. Not much better ! — Probably quite so 
boisterous ! — But who taught you already to 
bribe me with one word, exactly like him ? To 
be sure, if it be so as you tell me, I can hardly 
understand Nathan. But he is my friend, and 
all of my friends must not quarrel with each 
other. Take an advice. G-o considerately! 
Do not abandon him to the fanatics of your 
mob ! Keep secret that which your clergy 
would explain to me in order to be revenged 
on him. Be not a Christian in defiance of a 
Jew or of a Mussulman ! 

Temp. It were nearly too late ! Thanks be 
to the bloodiness of the patriarch, that I had 
an abhorrence of becoming his tool. 

Sal. How ? You saw the patriarah before 
you came to me ? 

Temp. In the storm of passion, in the whirl- 
wind of irresolution ! — Forgive me ! I fear that 
you will not recognize further anything of your 
Assad in me. 

Sal. Were it not this very fear ! It seems 
to me I know very well from what faults our 
virtue rises. Cultivate it further, and they 



154 NATHAN THE WISE. 

shall not prejudice me against you. But go ! 
Search for Nathan as he searched for you,^and 
bring him here. I will make you come to 
an agreement. If you think only of getting 
the girl, be quiet. She is yours ! I will make 
Nathan atone for it, that he dared to bring up 
a Christian child without using any pork ! Go ! 
(Exit the Templar and Sittah leaves the sofa.) 



Scene V. — Saladin and Sittah. 

Sit. It is quite strange ! 

Sal. Well, Sittah ? Must not my Assad 
have been a brave and handsome young man ? 

Sit. If he was so, and not rather the Tern- 
plar was .sitting for the picture ! But how 
could you forget to inquire of him about his 
parents ? 

Sal. Indeed ! especially for his mother ? 
Whether his mother has ever been in this coun- 
try ? Is it not so ? 

Sit. You shall pay for it ! 

Sal. 0, nothing is more possible ! For 



NATHAN THE WISE. 155 

Assad was "so very welcome to all beautiful 
Christian ladies, and he was so mad after 
charming Christian ladies that once was a 
report rife, well, well : one does not like to 
speak of it — Enough I have him back, I will 
have him back again with all the faults and 
vagaries of his sentimental heart ! 0, Nathan 
must give him that girl. Do not you think so ? 

Sit. He shall give her to him ? Leave her 
to him ! 

Sal. Certainly ! What right has Nathan on 
her, when he is not her father ? He who 
saved her life, is enteringjupon the rights of 
him, — who gave it her. 

Sit. How, Saladin? Would you not take 
the girl immediately into your house and de- 
prive the illegal possessor of her ? 

Sal. Is that necessary ? 

Sit. Indeed not. The mere curiosity alone 
urged me to give you such advice. Because I 
am too anxious to know of certain men, if pos- 
sible, with what girl they can fall in love. 

Sal. Now send for her. 



156 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Sit. May I, brother ? 

Sal. But be very circumspect towards Na- 
than ! He must think by no means, that one 
wishes to separate him from her by force. 

Sit. Do not be uneasy on that score. 

Sal. And I, I must see myself, where Al 
flan tarries so long. 



Scene VI. — Scenery : — The vestibule in Nathan's house 
situated towards the palm-trees as it is in the first scene of first 
act. A part of the goods and valuable things therein men- 
tioned are lying about. Nathan and Daja. 

Daja. 0, all excellent ! all well selected I 
0, all as you can only give it. Where is the 
silver stuff with the golden branch work made ? 
What is the price of it ? That is which I call 
a wedding dress. Even a queen would wish 
for no better. 

Nat. Wedding gown ? Why just a wedding 
gown ? 

Daja. Well ! You did not certainly think 
of it, when you bought it. But, indeed, Na- 



NATHAN THE WISE. 15T 

than, it must be that and no other one ! It is 
for a nuptual dress, as if it had been ordered. 
The white ground an emblem of innocence, and 
gold rivers which serpentize through every- 
where, an emblem of wealth. Do you see ? 
Most delightful. 

Nat. Wherefore are you so vastly witty ? 
Whose wedding dress are you allegorizing so 
highly learned ? Are you a bride ? 

Daja. I? 

Nat. Well, who else ? 

Daja. I? Good God! 

Nat. Who else ? Well, of whose wedding 
dress do you talk about ? This is all yours 
and belongs to noboby else. 

Daja. Is mine ? Shall be mine ? Is nothing 
there for Recha ? 

Nat. What I brought for Recha lies in 
another bale. Make haste ! Take away ! 
Pack up your things ! 

Daja. Tempter ! No, were they even all the 
valuable things of the whole world ! I would 



158 NATHAN THE WISE. 

not touch them ! If you do not swear now, to 
make use of the opportunity which heaven will 
not send you again. 

1ST at. Use? of what? Opportunity? to what? 

Daja. do not make yourself so strange ! 
In sport, the Templar loves Eecha. Give her 
to him. Your sin which I cannot conceal any 
longer will end. The girl will then be again 
among Christians; become again that which 
she is, and is what she was, and you are not 
heaping coals of fire on your head in all the 
favors you show to us, and for which we cannot 
be thankful enough to you. 

Nat. Is not that the old tune of the lyre 
again ? It has put on a new string which, I 
think, will neither be in tune nor last at all. 

Daja. How so ? 

Nat. I am very well pleased with the Tem- 
plar and would more rejoice at his getting 
Recha than anybody else in the whole world. 
But now have patience. 

Daja. Patience ? Is it not now the tune of 
the old lyre ? 



NATHAN THE WISE. 159 

Nat. Be patient* only for a few days more ! 
Look here ! Who is coming there ? A lay- 
brother ? Go, ask him, what he wants. 

Daja. What shall he want ? (she approaches 
him and is asking.) 

Nat. Give him before he begs. (Could I only 
know how to get at the Templar without tell- 
ing him the cause of my curiosity ! Because if 
I tell it to him and the suspicion is without 
any foundation, I would have staked in vain 
the honor of his father.) What is it ? 

Daja. He likes to see you. 

Nat. Well, let him come in, and leave me 
for a while. 



Scene VII. — Nathan and the Lay Brother. 

Nat. (I wish very much to remain Recha's 
father ! — But can I not remain it, even if they 
cease to call me so ? — She, yes, she will never- 
theless call me father, when perceiving how I 
like it to be that) Go ! — What are your com- 
mands, pious brother ? — 



160 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Lay B. Not much Mr. Nathan. I am glad to 
see you still in good health. 

Nat. Do you know me ? 

Lay B. Well ! Who would not know you ? 
You put your name into the hands of many a 
man. It stands in mine also since many years* 

Nat. (feeling for his purse.) Come, brother, 
come let me renew it again. 

Lay B. Thank you. I would deprive the 
poorer of it. I take nothing. — Allow me only 
to revive a little my name ; because I can boast 
of my having laid also something in your 
hand, that was not which should be slighted. 

Nat. Excuse ! — I am ashamed. — Tell me 
what? — and accept from me seven times the 
value of that as atonement for it. 

Lay B. But before all things, listen to me 
how I was first to-day reminded of the pledge 
I gave you. 

Nat. You intrusted me with a pledge ? 

Lay B. As I was sitting as hermit at Quar- 
antana not far off from Jericho, there came an 



NATHAN THE WISE. 161 

Arab troop of robbers, pulled down my little 
house of worship and my cell, and dragged me 
away with them. It was lucky for me, that I 
escaped, and fled hither to the patriarch to 
request him for another little place where I 
might worship my Grod in solitude, until I die in 
his grace. 

Nat. I am in great haste, dear brother, make 
short work of it. The pledge ! The pledge 
you have intrusted to me ! 

Lay B. Mr. Nathan, directly !— Well the 
patriarch promised to give me a hermitage at 
Tabor as soon as one shall become vacant, and 
bade me stay in the cloister in the meanwhile 
as a lay-brother. Mr. Nathan, there I am now 
and a hundred times in a day I am longing for 
Tabor ; because the patriarch employs me to 
perform things at which I am much disgusted. 
For instance. 

Nat. I pray you, be quick ! 

Lay B. Well, now it is coming. Somebody 
whispered to-day in his ear that a Jew living 
somewhere in the neighborhood educates a 
Christian child as his daughter. 
11 



162 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Nat. (perplexed.) How ? 

Lay B. Hear me to the end ! Charging- 
me to trace up that Jew immediately, if possi- 
ble, and grew very angry at such an iniquity, 
considering it as a sin committed against the 
holy spirit, that means a sin which is the great- 
est sin of all sins ; but, thank God, that we 
really do not know in what it consists. — There 
my conscience suddenly awakened and it came 
into my mind, that I myself could have given 
an occasion for this unpardonable great sin a 
long time ago. — Tell me ! Did not a groom 
bring you a little daughter of a few weeks old 
about eighteen years ago ? 

Nat. How that? Well, yes — certainly — 

Lay B. Why, look at me well ! That groom 
was I ! 

Nat. Was you? 

Lay B. The gentleman, from whom I brought 
it, was, if I am right, Mr. von Filneck — Wolf 
von Filneck ! 

Nat. Exactly ! 

Lay B. As the mother died not long ago, and 



NATHAN THE WISE. 163 

the father, I think, had suddenly to throw him- 
self into Gazza, where the little worm could not 
follow him, he sent it to you. And did not we 
meet you at Darun ? 

Nat. You are very right. 

Lay B. It were no wonder, if iny memory 
would deceive me. I had so many brave mas- 
ters and this I only served for a very short 
time. He fell soon after near Askalon. He 
was, indeed, a gentleman. 

Nat. Yes ! Yes ! I owe him much for his 
kindness. He rescued me more than once from 
the sword ! 

Lay B. good ! The more so you must 
have protected his little daughter. 

Nat. You may be assured of that. 

Lay. B Well, where is she now ? She did 
not die already ? Do not let her be dead. — If 
only nobody knows anything about it, then it is 
all right — 

Nat. Is it ? 

Lay B. Nathan, confide in me ! " Because 



164 NA THA N THE WISE. 

look here, I think thus ! If near on the good 
which I intend to perform borders anything 
that is very bad, I will rather not do the good ; 
for we know the bad quite positively, but not 
so the good. Indeed ! It was very natural, if 
you should educate the Christian's little daugh- 
ter well to bring her up as your own. This 
you have done with love and fidelity, and shall 
be rewarded in such a manner ? This I cannot 
comprehend. Certainly ! You would have 
acted much wiser, if you had brought up the 
Christian by another Christian ! but in this way 
you would not have been so attached to the 
little child of your friend. And children of 
such a tender age need love more than Chris- 
tianity, and were it even that of a wild beast. 
It is always time enough to embrace Christian- 
ity. When the girl has grown up sound and 
pious before your eyes, then she remained in the 
sight of Grod that which she was. And is not 
the whole Christianity based on Judaism ? It 
provoked me very often and I wept intensely, 
that Christians could so far forget themselves, 
that our Lord was himself a Jew. 

ISTat. You, dear brother, must be my de- 
fender when hatred and hypocrisy should arise 



NATHAN THE WISH. 16 5 

against me — on account of a deed — 0, on 
account of a deed ! You only ought to 
know it! But take it into your grave! I 
was not yet tempted by vanity to relate it to 
anybody. I tell it only to you, I communicate 
it tb you only on account of your pious sim- 
plicity. Because it alone understands what 
things a pious man is capable to undertake. ' 

Lay B. You are affected and your eyes are 
filled with tears. 

Nat. You and the child met me at Darun. 
But you do not know it, that the Christians, 
just a few days before had murdered all the 
Jews and even women and children in the city 
of Gath ; you do not know it that among them 
were my wife and seven hopeful boys, whom I 
brought into the house of my brother to take 
refuge : but where they all had to perish to- 
gether in the flames. 

Lal B. 0, All-righteous God ! 

Nat. When you came I have lain prostrated 
in dust and ashes before God three days and 
nights and wept bitterly. Wept? I have 
moreover contended against God, vexed also 



166 NATHAN TEE WISE. 

angry at Him, raged, cursed myself and the - 
whole world and swore to Christendom irre- 
concilable revenge. — 

Lay B. 0, I believe you, indeed ! 

Nat. And when my reason returned again 
by degrees, it said with a soft voice : And yet 
there is a Grod ! That was nevertheless His 
decree ! Well ! Come on then ! do that which 
you conceived long ago. It is surely not more 
difficult to exercise than to comprehend, if you 
are only willing to do so. Arise ! I arose and . 
cried to Grod ! I will if thou wilt, that I shall 
be willing ! In the meanwhile you dismounted 
from a horse and gave me the child which was 
wrapt in your cloak. What you said to me 
and what I said to you, I do not remember any 
more. But so much I recollect, that I took 
the child, carried it to my room and laid it 
upon my couch, kissed it heartily and fell on 
my knees and sobbed forth : I lost seven but 
have now one again ! 

Lay B. Nathan ! Nathan ! You are a 
Christian ! — By Grod you are a Christian. There 
was never a better one. 



NATHAN TEE WISE. 167 

Nat. It is well for us, that just the same that 
makes me a Christian in your opinion makes 
jou a Jew according to my views. — But let us 
not soften each other any longer. It needs 
here action ! Although a sevenfold love binds 
me to this single foreign girl and the thought is 
killing me, that I shall lose with her my seven 
sons anew, if Providence reclaims her from me 
— I obey. 

Lay B. That is entirely so ! I considered it 
and wanted to advise you in the same way. 
But your good spirit had thus counseled you 
already. 

Nat. Not everybody, however, must think 
that he can tear her from me ! 

Lay B. No! Certainly not! 

Nat. He who has no greater claims on her 
than I, he must have at least former ones. — 

Lay B. Certainly ! 

Nat. Which are due to him by nature and 
blood. 

Lay B. JThis is exactly my opinion ! 



168 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Nat. Therefore give me quickly the name of 
any person that is related to her as brother or 
uncle as cousin or any other relative and 
I will not detain her from him. She was crea- 
ted and brought up to become an ornament of 
any house and any creed. I hope, that you 
know more about this your master and his peo- 
ple, more than I do. 

Lay B. Well, dear Nathan, I know hardly 
anything of that! Because you have heard 
already, that I have been with him only for a 
very short time. 

Nat. Do not you kDow at least of what 
family the mother was ? Did she descend from 
the Stauffeu ? 

Lay B. It may be ! — Yes, I think so. 

Nat. Was not her brother Conrad von 
Stauffen ? — Was not he a templar ? " 

Lay B. If I am not mistaken, he was. But 
hold on ! I recollect just now, that I have still 
a little book of the late master. I pulled it 
out from his inside pocket, when we buried him 

at Askelon, 4 



NATHAN THE WISE. 169 

Nat. Well? 

Lay B. There are some prayers in it. We 
call it breviary. That I thought, can be of 
some use to a Christian fellow. Certainly not 
to me ; because I cannot read. — 

Nat. No matter ! — Now to the point. 

Lay B. This little book, contains, as people 
tell me, in the front and at the end a register of 
all the relatives of him and her written with 
my master's own hand. 

Nat. 0, this is very agreeable to me ! Go ! 
Run ! Get me that little book. Make haste ! 
I will outweigh it in gold and give you also a 
thousand thanks ! Hurry, run quick ! 

Lay B. With the greatest pleasure ! But 
all that my master wrote there is, in the Arabian 
language. (Exit.) 

Nat. It is all the same ! Let me only have 
it ! God ! If I could still retain this girl with 
me and win by her such a son-in-law — it will 
hardly be so ! — Well, turn out as it may ! — But 
who was it that denounced such a thing to the 
patriarch ? I must" not forget to inquire about 
that. — Should it come from Daja ? 



170 NATHAN THE WISH. 

Scene VIII. — Daja (in hasie and embarrassed.) 

Daja. Think only, Nathan ! 

Nat. What? 

Daja. The poor child was very much alarm- 
ed at that ! There sends 

Nat. The patriarch ? 

Daja. The Sultan's sister, princess Sit- 
tah 

Nat. Not the patriarch ? 

Daja. No, Sittah ! — Do not you hear ? — 
Princess Sittah sends for her. 

Nat. For whom ? For Recha ? Sittah 
sends for Recha ? Well, if Sittah sends for 
her and not the patriarch 

Daja. How do you come to speak of that 
man? 

Nat. Did not you hear anything of him 
lately ? Surely not ? Have you apprised him 
of nothing ? 

Daja. I? Him? 



NATHAN THE WISE. 171 

Nat. Where are the messengers ? 

Daja. In the front part of the house. 

Nat. For the sake of precaution I will 
speak with them myself. Come ! — If only the 
patriarch would not have his hand in this affairs 
(Exit.) 

Daja. And I — I am afraid of quite another 
thing. I am sure, the single reputed daughter 
of a rich Jew would not be bad for a Mussul- 
man after all. Huzza ! The Templar lost her. 
He cannot get her, if I would not try to take 
a second step and reveal it to herself, who she 
is. Never mind ! Let me use for that purpose 
the first moment when I am alone with her. 
And that will be when I perhaps accompany 
her. Such a first hint can at least not hurt on 
the way. Yes, yes ! Cheer up ! Now or 
never I Cheer up ! (after him.) 



172 NATHAN THE WISE. 



ACT Y. 



Scene I. — Scenery : — A room in the palace of Saladin, into 
which the bags with money were carried and are still to be seen 
Saladin and soon after several Mamelukes. 



Sal. (when entering.) There lays yet the 
money and nobody can find out the Dervise who 
is probably sitting somewhere at the chessboard 
that makes him forget himself and why not 
also me ? — But patience ! What is the matter ? 

A Mam. Good news, Sultan ! Much joy, 
Sultan ! The caravan of Kahira is coming 
with a septenual tribute from the rich Nile. 

Sal. Yery good, Ibrahim. You are indeed 
a welcome messenger to me ! 0, at last ! at 
last ! My thanks for your good news ! 



NATHAN THE WISE. 173 

Mam. (waiting.) Well, let me have them ! 

Sal. What are you waiting for ? — You may 
go. 

Mam. Nothing else for the welcome messen- 
ger ? 

Sal. What else ? 

Mam. Is no fee paid to the good carrier ? I 
am then the first whom Saladin has finally 
learned to pay with words ! — It is also a glory ! 
■ — I am the first with whom he dealt in a nig- 
gardly manner. 

Sal. Take there one bag with money. 

Mam. Not now even if you would give me 
all as a present. 

Sal. Defiance ! — Come here ! There you 
shall have two. — In earnest ? He goes ? Will 
he outvie me in generosity ? For indeed ! It 
must be harder for him to refuse than it is for 
me to give. — Ibrahim ! — What idea comes into 
my mind, that I wish to become suddenly quite 
another person so shortly before my end ? Will 
Saladin not die as Saladin ? — Then he ought 
not to have lived as Saladin. 



174 NATHAN THE WISE. 

2d Mam. Now, Saladin ! 

Sal. If you come to inform me . ... 

2d. Mam. That the transport from Egypt has- 
arrived. 

Sal. I know it already. 

2d Mam. I am very sorry I came too late. 

Sal. Why too late? — There take for your 
good will one or two bags with money. 

2d Mam. Say three. 

Sal. Yes, if you can count them ! — So take 
them. 

2d Mam. There will come a third one, — if 
he will be able to come. 

Sal. How is that ? 

2d Mam. Well ! he has broken his neck* 
Because as soon as we three have been assured 
of the arrival of the transport every one dashed 
forward. The first fell off his horse and thus 
I outrun him and had the start of him until we 
arrived in the city, where Ibrahim, the parasite, 
knows much better the* streets — than I do. 



NATHAN THE WISH. 175 

Sal. the man who fell ! A friend of mine 
was he who fell ! — Eide fast to meet him ! 

2d Mam. I will do that, and if he is alive, he 
shall have half of these bags with money. 
(Exit.) 

Sal. Look here, what a good and noble fel- 
low is that ! — Who can boast of such Mame- 
lukes ? And is not allowed to me to think, 
that my example helped to mould them ? — 
Away with such a thought to accustom them at 
last to any other ! 

3d Mam. Sultan 

Sal. Was it you who fell off the horse ? 

3d Mam. No, I announce only that Emir 
Mansor the leader of the caravan, is just dis- 
mounting 

Sal. Let him come in ! quick ! There he 
is!— 



Scene II. — Emir Mansor and Saladin. 

Sal. Welcome, Emir ! Well how was your 



176 FATHA24 THE WISE. 

journey? — Mansor, Mansor! You kept us 
waiting very long. 

Mansor. This letter will inform you, what 
tumult had to be put down first in Thebais by ' 
your Abulkassem, before we could venture to 
set out. We hastened our traveling as quick 
as possible. 

Sal. I believe you ! — Dear Mansor, let a 
fresh, escort attend you immediately, and I hope 
that you will do so cheerfully ; for you must go 
at once still farther. You have to carry the 
most part of this money to my father on the 
mount of Libanon. 

Mansor. Gladly ! with pleasure ! 

Sal. Be careful, that, your guard be not too 
weak. It is not very safe any more around 
about the Libanon. Did not you hear it? 
The templars are again very active. Be upon 
your guard ! — Come along ! Where halts the 
transport ? I like to see it and I will manage 
everything myself. — Then to Sittah! 



NATHAN THE WISE. 177 

Scene III. — Scenery : — The palm-trees before Nathan's 
house. The Templar going vp and down. 

Temp. I will not go into the house. — He will 
show himself at last !— They noticed me for- 
merly so soon, and so cheerfully ! — I will live 
to see, that he will deprecate my steady walks 
before his house. Era ! But I am too much 
vexed at him ! What was it that so provoked 
me against him ? Why ! he said, that he re- 
fuses me nothing as yet. And Saladin took it 
upon himself to induce him to do it. How ? 
Is really the Christian seated deeper in my 
heart than the Jew in his ? — Who knows him- 
self correctly ! Else how could I grudge him 
the little robbery he was striving to rescue 
from the Christians ? — Certainly it is no small 
booty such a creature ! — creature ? And whose ? 
Not of the slave who floated a block on a bar- 
ren shore of life and took French leave ? 
Surely rather of the artist who fancied the 
divine figure he represented then in the block 
laid before him ? Ah ! the true father of 
Recha, in spite of the Christian who begot her, 
remains the Jew forever. If I now imagine 
her as a Christian girl without all that such a 
Jew alone could give her ! Speak my heart 
12 



178 NATHAN THE WISE, 

what is it that would please you in her ? Noth- 
ing ! Little ! Even her smiling, would be 
nothing but a soft and beautiful convulsion of 
her muscles, and that which makes her smile 
would be unworthy of the charm playing 
around her mouth. No, not even her smiling ! 
I have seen it squandered still more beautiful 
in derangement, idle talk, mockery, flatterers 
and paramours ! Has it also fascinated me ? 
Has it formed in my breast the desire to flatter 
away my life in its sunshine ? — I am unconscious 
of it ! And yet I am cross to him who gave 
her all alone the higher charm ? How that ? 
Why ? — If I should have deserved the raillery 
with which Saladin dismissed me 1 It is bad 
enough, that Saladin could believe it ! How 
small must I have appeared to him ! How 
despicable ! — And all that for a girl? — Curd ! 
Curd ! that will not do. Turn back to the 
right direction ! Supposing Daja chatted to 
me something that can hardly be proved ? 
Look here ! There being absorbed in conver- 
sation he is finally coming out of the house ! — 
Ho ! with whom ! — With him ? With my lay- 
brother? — 0, he knows surely everything al- 
ready ! He is probably betrayed already to 



NATHAN THE WISE. ' 179 

the gpatriarch ! Oh, I cross-grained fellow, 
what have I done ! That one spark of this 
passion can burn so much of our brains ! 
Decide at once what shall be done next ! I 
will wait for them here aside and may be, that 
the lay-brother will leave him. 



Scene IV. — Nathan and Lay-Brother. 

Nat. (approaching nearer to him.) Dear 
brother, I make agaiD my acknowledgments. 

Lay B. And so do I. 

Nat. You ? to me ? for what ? For my 
stubborness in pressing upon you that which 
you do not need ? Yes, if yours had only 
yielded to it. You did not want by all means 
to become richer than I. 

Lay B. The book does not belong to me at 
all. Yes, it is the daughter's and is her whole 
paternal inheritance ! — Well, she has you. — 
God grant, that you may never repent to have 
done so much for her ! 



180 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Nat. Can I do that ? Never ! Do not be 
uneasy at that ! 

Lay B. Well, well ! The patriarchs and the 
templars 

Nat. They cannot do me so much evil, that 
I would regret anything, much less that ! — And 
are you sure, that a templar spurs on your 
patriarch ? 

Lay B. It is hardly another one. A tem- 
plar spoke to him a little while ago, and what 
I heard, sounded accordingly. 

Nat. But there is at present only one in 
Jerusalem, and I know him. He is my friend. 
A young, noble, and candid man ! 

Lay B. Indeed, the same ! But that which 
a man is and must be in this world, does not 
suit always. 

Nat. Alas, not ! — Thus let him do, who it 
ever may be, his worst or best. Brother, with 
your book I defy all, and I will go with it 
straight to the Sultan. 

Lay B. Much joy ! Here I will leave you. 



NATHAN THE WISE. 181 

Nat. And you have not yet done so much, as 
seen her ! come back soon and often. If only 
the patriarch would not hear anything of it to- 
day ! But what ? Tell him to-day all that 
you want. 

Lay B. I shall not. Good-bye ! (Exit.) 

Nat. Do not forget us brother ! — God ! That 
I cannot fall on my knees here in the open air ! 
How is this knot loosened by itself which made 
me afraid so often ! O God, how easy do I feel 
when I think that I have nothing to conceal 
any more in this world ! That I can walk now 
as free before men, as before Thee who dost not 
need to judge man according to his deeds 
which are so seldom his deeds, 0, God ! — 



Scene V. — Nathan and the Templar who is approaching 
him sidewards. 

Temp. Ha ! wait, Nathan, take me along ! 

Nat. Who is calling me? — Is it you, knight? 
Where have you been, that I could not meet 
you at the Sultan's palace ? 



182 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Temp. We missed one another. Excuse me, 
Sir! 

Nat. I will ; but not Saladin 

Temp. You had just gone 



Nat. And yet you saw him? Well, that 
is right. 

Temp. But he will see us both together. 

Nat. So much the better. Come with me. 
I wanted just to call upon him. — 

Temp. May I ask you, Nathan, who was he, 
who left you but now ? 

Nat. You do not know him ? 

Temp. Was it not the good fellow, the lay- 
brother whom he employs as a spy ? 

Nat. May be! He is certainly with the 
patriarch. 

Temp. This trick is not very bad to send on 
simplicity before knavery. 

Nat. Yes, the stupid, — not the pious simplic- 
ity. — 



NATHAN THE WISE. 183 

Temp. No patriarch does believe in pious. 

Nat. I guarantee for him. He will not as- 
sist the patriarch in performing any impropriety. 

Temp, He affects at least to be so. — But did 
not he tell you anything of me ? — 

Nat. Of you ? of you especially nothing at 
all. He hardly knows your name. 

Temp. Hardly. 

Nat. He told me certainly something of a 
templar 

Temp. And what ? 

Nat. By which he could positively not have 
meant you. 

Temp. Who knows it ? Please, let me hear 
it now. 

Nat. That somebody accused me to his pa- 
triarch 

Temp. Accused you ? — That is with his 
permission a falsehood. — Listen to me Na- 
than ! I am a man who is not able to 
disown anything. All that I did, I confess 



184 NATHAN THE WISH. 

that I did it. Nor am I such a one who 
would defend everything he has undertaken or 
performed. Why should I be ashamed of a 
fault I have committed ? Am I not determined 
to correct it ? And do I not know at what a 
degree men can arrive in this respect ? Listen 
to me, Nathan ! — I am the templar of the lay- 
brother who should have accused you indeed ! 
You know that which irritated me and which 
made the blood boil in my veins ! ! what a 
fool I am ! — I came with body and soul to take 
refuge with you ! How did you receive me ! 
How cold ! — how luke-warm — because luke- 
warm is still worse than cold ; how consider- 
atley, how very studious have you been to 
elude me, how did you put some questions to 
me without any foundation in order to appear 
as if answering my inquiries. If I shall keep 
my temper I dare hardly think of it at present. 
— Listen to me, Nathan ! — In a state of such an 
agitation Daja sneaked after me and pressed her 
secret upon me which seemed to unfold your 
mysterious behaviour. 

Nat. How is that ? 

Temp. Hear me to the end ! I imagined, 



NATHAN THE WISE. 185 

that you did not like to lose that again by a 
Christian which you have rescued from Chris- 
tians. Thus it came into my mind, in order to 
be short and to make it good I shall urge you 
very closely. 

Nat. To be short and to make it good ? 
wherein consists the good ? 

Temp. Listen to me, Nathan ! — It is true, I 
have done wrong ! — You are not guilty at all. 
The foolish Daja does not know what she is 
talking about. She bears you an ill will — and 
tries to involve you in a bad affair. — May be ! 
may be ! I am a young chap whose imagina- 
tion takes always wild nights on both extremes. 
He does sometimes too much and sometimes too 
little. Even that can be ! Excuse me, Nathan. 

Nat. Certainly, if you consider me in this 
light.— 

Temp. In short, I went to the patriarch ! but 
I did not mention you at all. This is false as 
I have already stated. I related to him the fact 
only in general terms in order to hear his 
opinion, and even that I might have spared. 
Yes, did not I know already, that the patriarch 



186 NATHAN THE WISE. 

is a rogue? — Could not I at once call you to 
account about it? — Must I expose the poor 
girl to the danger of losing such a father? 
Well, what matters it ? The vileness of the pa- 
triarch, remaining always similar to itself 
brought me the shortest way again to my senses. 
Because, hear me, Nathan, hear me to the end ! 
Supposing, he knew also your name. — What 
can be done more ? He could only demand 
the girl, if nobody claims her but you. He 
can only drag her out of your house into the 
cloister. — Therefore give her to me ! give her 
only to me and then let him come. He shall 
forbear doing it to take my wife. Give her to 
me, quickly ! She be your daughter or not ! 
Be a Christian or Jewess or none ! It is no 
matter, no matter ! I shall not inquire about it 
neither at present nor ever in my whole life. 
Be as it may ! 

Nat. Do you think, that it is necessary for 
me to conceal the truth ? 

Temp. Be it as it may ! 

Nat. I did never deny neither to you nor to 
anybody who ought to know it, that she is a 



NATHAN THE WISH. 18T 

Christian and. nothing else but my foster-daugh- 
ter. Why I have not revealed the secret to her ? 
•For that I have only to make my excuse to her 
alone. 

Temp. It is not necessary to apologize your 
doing so to her. Allow her never to look on 
you with other eyes ! Spare her the disclose- 
ure ! — At present you can still all alone dispose 
of her. Give her to me ! I am the only one 
who can save her to you a second time — and I 
will. 

Nat. Yes — could ! could ! But not any 
more. It is too late to do that. 

Temp. How so ? Too late ? 

Nat. Thanks 'be to the patriarch. . •. 

Temp. To the patriarch? Thanks? To 
him thanks ? For what ? He wanted to de- 
serve thanks of us ? For what ? For what ? 

Nat. That we know to whom she is related, 
know into whose hands we can put her now 
safely. 

Temp. He may thank him for that who shall 
thank him for more ! 



188 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Nat. You must receive her now from their 
hands and not from mine. 

Temp. Poor Eecha ! How much comes sud- 
denly upon you ! what would be a fortune for 
other orphans becomes your misfortune ! — Na- 
than ! and where are these relatives ? 

Nat. Where are they ? 

Temp. And who are they ? 

Nat. A brother has especially appeared of 
whom you have to ask her hand. 

Temp .A brother ? W Iiat is he ? A soldier ? 
A clergyman ? — Tell me, what I may expect. 

Nat. I believe he is neither of both or both 
together. I do not know him yet exactly. 

Temp. And besides that ? 

Nat. A brave man ! Eecha will not be bad 
off with him. 

Temp. Yet a Christian ! — Sometimes I do not 
know what I shall think of you ! — do not take 
it amiss, Nathan ! will she not be obliged to 
play the Christian among Christians ? And 



NATHAN THE WISE. 182 

will she not finally become that which she 
played long enough ? Will not the weed choke 
finally the pure wheat you have sown ? — And 
that concerns you so little ? And notwith- 
standing that, can you say — you — that she will 
not be bad off when staying with her brother ? 

Nat. I think, I hope so ! And if she should 
be wanting something, well, has she not still 
yourself and me ? 

Temp. Oh ! what could she be wanting ! will 
not the good brother provide richly enough for 
his dear sister with board and clothes, delica- 
cies and handsome things ? And what does a 
beloved sister need more ? Eh, indeed ! a hus- 
band also ! Well, well ! Even that will her 
dear brother procure her in due time. As good 
as he can ever find, the most Christian, and the 
best. — Nathan ! Nathan ! What an angel have 
you brought up who will be deformed by 
others ! 

Nat. Never mind ! She will still keep up 
her dignity to be worthy of our love. 

Temp. Do not say so ! Do not say so of my 
love ! Because it does not allow to suppress 



190 NATHAN THE WISE. 

anything, be it ever so small. And even a 
mere name ! But hold ! Does she suspect al- 
ready what is going on concerning her ? 

Nat. It is possible, although I do not know 
how so ? 

Temp. No matter ! She shall and must first 
learn from me what fate is threatening her in 
both directions. I relinquish my resolution not 
to see her again until I can call her mine. I 
hasten away 

Nat. Stay ! Whither are you going ? 

Temp. To her ! To see whether her maiden 
soul will possess so much of manly character to 
form the only resolution worthy of her. 

Nat. Which? 

Tmep. It is this, that she shall not care for 
you or her brother any more. — 

Nat. And? 

Temp. And to follow me even if she had to 
become the wife of a Mussulman. 

Nat. Stay, you will not meet her. She is 
with Sittah, the sister of Sultan. 



NATHAN THE WISE. 191 

Temp. Since when ? Why ? 

Nat. And if you want to find there also 
the brother, come with me. 

Temp, the brother? Whom? That of 
Sittah or Recha ? 

Nat. Perhaps both. Come with me. I en- 
treat you come ! (Leading him away.) 



Scene VI. — Scenery : — Sittah' s Harem. Sittah and 
Recha in conversation. 

Sit. I rejoice in you, sweet girl ! — Let your 
heart not be shrunk with grief ! Be not so 
alarmed, so shy ! Be lively, more communica- 
tive and more familiar ! 



Rech. Princess 



Sit. Nay, not princess! Call me Sittah, 
your friend, your sister. Call me your mama ! 
I could likely be that. — So young, so wise, so 
pious ! How much is known to you ! How 
much must you have read ! 

Rech. How much I have read ? — Sittah, you 



192 NATHAN THE WISE. 

are mocking at your little silly sister. I know 
hardly how to read ! 

Sit. You know hardly, you story teller. 

Rech. A. little of my father's hand ! — I 
thought you spoke of books. 

Sit. To be sure of books. 

Rech. Well, books are, indeed, very difficult 
for me to read ! — 

Sit. In earnest ? 

Rech. Quite in earnest. My father loves too 
little the cold erudition which impresses itself, 
with dead signs on the brain. 

Sit. Eh ! do not say so ! — He is, however, 
not very wrong. And so many things you 
know ? 

Rech. I know them from his mouth. And 
I could still tell you how ? where ? and why ? 
he taught me the most of it. 

Sit. Thus all sticks much better, and the 
whole soul learns at once. 



NATHAN THE WISE. 19S 

Eech. Sittah, you have surely not read much 
or nothing at all ! 

Sit. How so ? — I am not proud of being the 
reverse ! But how so ? your argument ? Say 
it boldly ! Your argument ? 

Rech. She is so plain and so good, so unaf- 
fected and is merely so like herself. .... 

Sit. Well? 

Rech. The books leave that to us very sel- 
dom, says my father. 

Sit. 0, what a man is your father ! 

Rech. Is it not so ? 

Sit. How he reaches always the goal ! 

Rech. Is it not true ? — and this father — 

Sit. What ails you, love ? 

Rech. This father — 

Sit. God ! are you crying ? 

Rech. And this father — Ah ! out with it ! I 
will open my heart, unbosom myself .... 
13 



194 NATHAN TEE WISE. 

(Throwing herself overwhelmed with tears, at 
Sittah's feet.) 

Sit. Child, what is the matter witli you? 
Eecha ? 

Rech. This father I shall — I shall lose ! 

Sit. You ? lose ? him ? how that ? — Compose 
yourself ! never ! — Rise ! 

Rech. You shall not have offered yourself in 
vain to be my friend, my sister ! 

Sit. Yes, this I am, this I am ! — Stand up ! 
else I must call for help ! 

Rech. (resuming courage, rises) Oh ! I beg 
your pardon ! Forgive me ! — my suffering 
made me forget who you are. Whining and 
despair are of no weight to Sittah. Cold and 
calm reason has alone a great influence with her 
and whose cause is pleaded by it before her, 
will surely conquer. 

Sit. Well then ? 

Rech. No ! my friend, my sister will not al- 
low it! Will never permit it, that another 
father shall be pressed upon me ! 



NATHAN THE WISH. 195 

Sit. Another father ? pressed upon you ? 
Who can do that? Who could only wish to do 
so, my love ? 

Eech. Who? my good, bad Daja can wish 
that and thinks herself powerful enough to do 
it. Yes, know you not this good bad Daja ? 
Well, Grod may forgive her ! Reward it to 
her ! She has done me so much good and so 
much evil ! 

Sit. Has done evil to you ? — Indeed ! She 
must have very little of the good. 

Rech. Yet, very much, very much. 

Sit. Who is she ? 

Rech. A Christian who nursed me in my 
childhood ! — who tended me so good ! — you 
would not believe it ! — That I missed my mother 
very little ! — may Grod reward it to her ! But 
it is she who has also alarmed and tormented 
me. 

Sit. And about what ? Why and how ? 

Rech. ! the poor woman — yes, as I told 
you is a Christian — she must torment me on ac- 



196 NATHAN THE WISE. 

count of love. She is one of those enthusiasts 
who think to know the only general true way 
to God. 

Sit. Now I understand ! 

Kech. They feel themselves compelled to 
lead in that way every one who missed it. They 
can hardly do otherwise. For if it is true, ac- 
cording to their opinion, that this is the only 
road which leads to the right, how can they 
quietly see their friends walking on another 
that leads into perdition, eternal perdition ? 
It must be possible to love and hate the same 
man at the same time. It is even not that 
which forces me to complain loudly against her. 
I would have gladly endured much longer her 
sighs, her warnings, her prayers and her threats. 
They originated always in me such thoughts 
which were good and useful. And who is not 
flattered, if he notices that he is highly esteemed 
by some One, whoever it may be, that he cannot 
bear the thought he will once be deprived of 
us forever ? 

Sit. Yerv true ! 



NATHAN THE WISE. 197 

Eech. But — but that is going too far ! I 
cannot set anything against it neither patience 
nor consideration. Nothing ! 

Sit. What? Whom? 

Eech. What she wil! have but now revealed 
to me. 

Sit. Revealed and just now ? 

Rech. Yes, just now ! On our way hither 
we were approaching a Christian temple in ruins. 
She suddenly stood quiet and seemed to strug- 
gle within herself. With tears in her eyes she 
looked soon up to heaven and soon at me. 
Come, she finally said, let us go here straight 
along through this temple. She is going, I fol- 
low her, and my looks rambled with horror 
over the tottering ruins. Now she stops again 
and I was with her at the sunken steps of a rot- 
ten altar. How was I moved, when she with 
burning tears in her eyes and wringing her 
hands fell down at my feet ! 

Sit. Good child ! 

Rech. And conjured me by the divine virgin 
who has heard many a prayer and wrought 



NATHAN THE WISE. 



many a wonder to have compassion on myself! 
At least to pardon her if she must reveal to me 
what claim her church lays to me. 

Sit. (0 ! unfortunate ! — It is as my heart 
foreboded !) 

Rech. I descended from Christian blood, was 
baptized, I am not the daughter of Nathan, he 
is not my father ! — God ! God ! He is not my 
father*! — Sittah ! Sittah ! See me again at 
your feet 

Sit. Recha ! 0, Recha ! Rise ! my brother 
is coming ! Stand up ! 



Scene VII. — Saladin and the former. 

Sal. What is the matter here, Sittah ? 

Sit. She is out of her senses ! God ! 

Sal. Who is it ? 

Sit. You know it very well 

Sal. Our Nathan's daughter ? What ails 
her? 



NATHAN THE WISH. 199 

Sit. Child, compose yourself ! The Sultan ! 



Eech. (dragging herself along on her knees 
to the feet of Saladin and dropping her head to 
the floor.) I shall not rise, shall not see before 
the countenance of the Sultan and shall not 
look and admire before the reflection of eternal 
justice and goodness in his eyes, and on his 
brows until 

Sal. Eise ! . . . Rise ! 

Rech. Until he will promise me. . . . 

Sal. Come ! I promise you. Be it whatever 
it may. 

Rech. No more nor less than to leave to me 
my father and me to him. I do not know yet 
who else claims or can claim to be mj father ? 
I do not like to know it. But is it blood alone 
that makes the father ? Ouiy the blood ? 

Sal. (who is raising her.) I perceive it 
very well ! Who was so cruel to put such 
things into your head ? Is it perfectly decided ? 
Proved ? 



200 NATHAN THE WISH. 

Rech. Well, it must be so ! Because Daja 
says, that she was informed about it by my 
nurse ! 

Sal. By your nurse ? 

Rech. Who when dying considered herself 
in duty bound to tell it to her under the seal of 
secrecy. 

Sal. Already dying ! Was she not wander- 
ing ? And were it really true ! — Certainly, the 
blood, the blood alone does not constitute the 
father ! makes hardly the father of a beast ! 
It gives at most but the first right to gain 
such a name. Be not solicitous ! And do you 
know what to do ? when two fathers are fight- 
ing for you ! — leave them both. Take the 
third ! Take me as your father ! 

Sit. do so ! do so ! 

Sal. I will be a good father, a very good 
father. — But hold ! I know something better J 
What are the fathers to you ? Supposing they 
would die ? Look around in time for such a one 
who may enjoy with us a long life ! Do not you 
know any body yet ? 

Sit. Make her not blush ! 






NATHAN THE WISE. 201 

Sal. Certainly, that I was determined to do. 
Blushing makes the ugly so beautiful and shall 
it not make the fair ones more beautiful ? I 
bade your father Nathan and another one to 
come with him hither. Can you guess his 
name ? Hither ! Will you allow me Sittah ? 

Sit. Brother! 

Sal. That you blush exceedingly by his ap- 
pearance, dear girl ! 

Rech. For whom shall I blush ? 

Sal. You little hypocrite ! Well, grow 
rather pale ! Do as you will and can ! — (A 
female slave enters and is approaching Sittah.) 
They are not already here ? I hope ? 

Sit. Well, let them enter. They are the 
gentlemen, brother ! — 



Scene VIII. — Nathan, Templar and the former. 

Sal. Oh, my dear, good friends ! Before all 
things I have to tell you Nathan, that you can 
send now for your money whenever you want 
it. 



202 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Nat. Sultan! 

Sal. Now it is my turn to be at your service. 

Nat. Sultan! 

Sal. The caravan has arrived. I am now 
as rich again as I have not been for a long 
time. Come, tell me all you need to undertake 
something great ! For even you, you mer- 
chants can never have too much ready cash ! 

Nat. And why do you talk first of such a 
trifle ? — I see there an eye with tears which 
concerns me much more to dry them. (Ap- 
proaching Recha.) You have been weeping ? 
What is the matter with you ? Are you not 
still my daughter ? 



Recha. My father 



Nat. We understand each other. Enough I 
— Be cheerful! Be composed! Of course, if 
your heart is still yours and if no loss is threat- 
ening it, your father is not lost to you ! 

Rech. None, none else ! 

Temp. None else ? Well, then I did deceive 
myself. That which one never feared to lose, 



NATHAN THE WISE. 203 

he has never thought to possess nor ever 
wished for it. — Yery well ! very well ! — That 
change, Nathan ! that alters all ! — Saladin we 
came here at your command. But I misled 
you, trouble not yourself any more. 

Sal. How hasty you are again young man ! — 
Shall every one anticipate your desires ? Con- 
jecture all you want ? 

Temp. Well, you hear and see it, Sultan ! 

Sal. Eh, indeed ! it is bad enough, that you 
have not been surer of your case ! 

Temp. So I am now. 

Sal. Any one who is thus proud of a favor, 
he takes it back again. What you have saved 
is not on account of that, your property. Else 
a robber driven by his avarice into the fire 
would be as good a hero as ycu. (Approaches 
Kecha to lead her to the Templar.) Come, clear 
girl, come ! Take it not so particularly with 
him. For would he be otherwise, were he less 
high-spirited and proud, he would have abstain- 
ed from saving you. You must reckon him the 
one for the other. Come ! put him to shame I 



204 XATHAK THE WISE. 

Do that which is becoming him to do. Con- 
fess your love to him, give him your hand ! 
And if he spurns such an offer, and ever forget 
how much you have done in this affair for him 

than he for you What did then 

he for you ? Exposed himself a little to smoke ? 
There is something remarkable ! Thus he has 
nothing of my brother, my Assad ! He has 
only his features, but not his heart. Come, 
love 

Sit. Go, love ! go ! It is still very little for 
your gratitude, very little ! 

Nat. Hold Saladin ! Hold Sittah ! 
Sal. You also ? 

Nat. There is another one who has to say 
something about this affair. 

Sal. Who would deny that ? A delibera- 
tive vote belongs indisputable to such a foster- 
father ! The first, if you wish it. You see, 
that I know how the matter stands. 

Nat. Not quite ! I speak not of myself. I 
entreat you Saladin to hear first quite another 
one. 



NATHAN THE WISE. 205 

Sal. Whom? 

Nat. Her brother ! 

Sal. Recha's brother ? 

1ST at. Yes! 

Rech. My brother ? Have I a brother ? 

Temp, (standing up from a wild and silent 
distraction.) Where? Where is this brother ? 
Has not he come yet ? I should meet him 
here. 

Nat. Have patience, if you please. 

Temp, (most bitterly.) He imposed on her a 
father, would he not also find for her a brother ? 

Sal. That is too bad Christian ! Such a 
mean suspicion would never have come from 
Assad's lips. Well, go on so ! 

Nat. Pardon him ! I gladly forgive him ! — 
Who knows, what we would think were we in 
his place and in his age. (Coming up to the 
Templar friendly.) It is natural, knight ! Dis- 
trust is followed by suspicion ! — If you had 
deigned me to tell at once your right name . . . 

Temp. How ? 



206 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Nat. You are not a Stauffen ! 

Temp. Who am I ? 

Nat. Your name is not Curd von Stauffen ! 

Temp. What is my name ? 

Nat. Your name is Leo von Filneck. 

Temp. How ? 

Nat. You are startled ? 

Temp. Who can say that with good reason ? 

Nat. I who can tell you still more. Yet you 
will not be contradicted. 

Temp. Not? 

Nat. It is very likely that you go also under 
the other name. — 

Temp. I should think so ! (God told him to 
say that !) 

Nat. For your mother was a descendant of 
the Stauffen. Her brother, your uncle who 
brought you up, and to whom your parents left 
you in Germany, when driven away from that 
unpropitious climate, returned to this country 



NATHAN THE WISE. 207 

again, was Curd von Stauffen. He had adopt- 
ed you as his own child perhaps ! Did yon 
come over with him to this country long ago ? 
And is he still living ? 

Temp. What shall I say ?— Nathan ! Indeed ! 
That is so ! He is dead ! I came over with 
him with the last reinforcement of our order. 
But what has Eecha's brother to do with all 
this? 

Nat. Your father 

Temp. How ? Did you know him too ? 

Nat. He was my friend. 

Temp. Was your friend ? Is it possible, Na- 
than !..... 



Nat. He called himself Wolf von Filneck ; 
but he was not a German 

Temp. You know also that ? 

Nat. He married a German lady, and fol- 
lowed your mother to Germany for a short 
time. 

Temp. Nothing more ! I entreat you ! — But 
Recha's brother ? Eecha's brother ? 



208 NATHAN THE WISH. 

Nat. Are you ! 

Temp. I ? I her brother ? 

Eech. He my brother ? 

Sit. Brother and sister ! 

Sal. They are brother and sister ! 

Rech. (coming up to him.) Oh! My 
brother ! 

Temp, (stepping back.) Her brother ! 

Rech. (stopping and turning herself towards 
Nathan ) Cannot be ! Cannot ! His heart 
knows nothing of it ! We are impostors ! 
God! 

Sal. (to the Templar) Impostors ? how ? 
Do you think that? Can you think that ? You 
are yourself an impostor ! Because all is coun- 
terfeit in you : face, voice, and gait ! Nothing 
yours ! You will acknowledge fsuch a sister I 
Go! 

Temp, (approaching submissively.) Sultan t 
may not you too misjudge my astonishment ! 
In a moment in which you have hardly ever 



NATHAN TEE WISE. 209 

seen your Assad, mistake not the value of him 
and me ! (Hastening towards Nathan.) You 
take away and you give me, Nathan ! both by 
hanclfulls ! No, you give me a great deal more 
than you take away ! inexpressible more, 
(embraci g Reeha.) Ah, my sister ! My 
sister ! 

Nat. Blanda von Filneck ! 

Temp. Blanda ? Blanda ?— Not Eecha ? Not 
any more your Recha ? — God ! You cast her 
off ! You give her back her Christian name ! 
Cast her off on account of me ! Nathan ! 
Nathan ! Why shall she suffer for it ? she ! 

Nat. And what ? — Oh ! my children ! My 
children I — For were not also the brother of my 
daughter my child as soon as he wishes to be 
so ? (while they are embracing him Saladin 
approaches Sittah with an uneasy amazement.) 

Sal. What do you say, sister ? 
Sit. I am moved . .... 



Sal. And I, recoil shuddering from still a 
greater emotion ! Prepare yourself for that 
as well as you can. 
13 



210 NATHAN THE WISE. 

Sit. How? 

Sal. Nathan, a word with you ! a single 
word ! — (When Nathan is approaching him, 
Sittah comes up to the brother and sister to 
show them her sympathy and Nathan and Sala- 
din are speaking lower.) Listen, Nathan, lis- 
ten ! Did not you say before — ? 

Nat. What? 

Sal. Her father came not from Germany, was 
not a native German. What countryman was 
he and where did he come from ? 

Nat. He wanted never to tell me that. I 
know nothing about it from his lips. 

Sal. And was not a Frenchman nor an in- 
habitant of the western country ? 

Nat. Oh ! He acknowledged it very well, 
that he was such a one. He liked the best to 
speak the Persian language 

Sal. The Persian ? Persian ? What need 
[ more ? — It is he ! He was it ! 

Nat. Who? 



NATHAN THE WISH. 211 

Sal. My brother ! Surely ! My Assad ! 
Pretty sure ! 

Nat. Now as you yourself guessed it, I 
give you now the assurance of it in this book. 
(Presenting him the breviary.) 

Sal. (opening it eagerly.) Oh ! his hand- 
writing ! I recognize that too ! 

Nat. They know nothing about it yet ! It 
is entirely left to you how much they shall hear 
of it! 

Sal. (having run over the book.) Shall I 
not recognize my brother's children ? Not my 
nephew and niece ? My children ? Shall 1 not 
recognize them ? Shall I leave them to you ? 
(loudly again.) These they are ! These they 
are ! Sittah ! These they are ! They are both 
the children of my and your brother ! (he is 
hurrying to embrace them.) 

Sit. (following him.) What do I hear ! 
could it be otherwise ! 

Sal. (to the Templar.) Yet you must love 
me obstinate fellow ! (to Recha.) Am I not 



212 NATHAN THE WISE. 

to you that which I offered to you, whether 
you want it or not ? 

Sit. So am I too ! am I too ! 

Sal. (again to the Templar.) My son, my 
Assad, my Assad's son ! 

Temp. I am of your blood — Thus were those 
dreams with which they lulled my childhood, 
more than dreams ! (Templar falling down at 
his feet.) 

Sal. (raising him.) Look here at the rogue I 
He did know something of it and could nearly 
make me his murderer. Wait ! 

(While all are embracing each other silently, 
the curtain falls.) 



ERRATA. 



16, 
20, 



3d line "from face to face," should be " face to face" 
from foot, "poinard" " ''poniard" 

" "Cruel enthusiasts" should be "Cruel 

enthusiasts !" 
22, 7th " " "For certainty" should be "For certainly'' 

24, 4th " " Deryie" should be "Dervise" 
39, 13th " " of the templar's" should be "of the templars" 
76, Sth & 9th line, " her, Daja ? " "herDaja?" 
SO, 6th line from foot, " listening there !" should be " listenirg 

there ?" 
' allusion" should be '.' illusion" 

:, " retenue" should be " retiDue" 
the word " Sal" is to be added, 
"be gulled" should be " beguile" 
"patriarah" " "patriarch" 
''behaviour" " "behavior" 
"consideratley "should be "considerate] j"" 



90, 11th " 


"allu 


136, ICth ' 


from 


143, 7th " 




149, 5th " 




153, 9th " 




164, 3d " 


" 


184, 12th " 





•^B 



